Enigma
by RadiantlyEclipsed
Summary: There was more to Tom Riddle than Hermione could have ever guessed, things no one knew. Harry, Ron and Hermione take a tumble through time to uncover his secrets. *Explicit chapters*
1. Chapter One: Calamity

**A/N: LORD VOLDEMORT HAVE MERCY. I haven't written a fan fic in years. I'm pretty sure I suck at it now. I've had two fairly sucessful Tomione stories that I'd like to finish, but can't even get back into my account. Somewhat wondering if some fans of the other stories will recognize me...well, I'm starting out again. So please, be gentle. I'm trying to get back into writing and honestly...I didn't know it can go away after a few years. I'd love to know what you think!  
**

 **(Excuse any errors. I do not have a beta!)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **Chapter One:**

 _SMACK!_

Ron stumbled across the grass, falling harshly on his ass as Hermione stood with her fist balled up, ready to strike him again as he clutched his nose.

"Hermione, lets just calm down-" Harry began, holding his hands out defensively as slight amusement crossed his features.

"Calm down?" Hermione laughed, feeling slightly deranged. "CALM DOWN?!"

"Look, we'll just figure out-"

"There's nothing to figure out, Harry!" Hermione cut in, waving her arms dramatically. "do you realize what he's done—the MAGNITUDE of this problem?"

"Well..." Harry scratched his head. "we can just go back—"

"WE CAN'T GO BACK!"

"Hermione, please!" Harry shouted, looking apologetic as Hermione panted in a panic. What were they going to do? Oh God, this was bad—Apocalyptic bad.

"What do we do?" Ron spoke up, earning a glare from Hermione, making him flinch.

"I think the more appropriate question is _when_ are we?" she seethed, trying to breath slowly and calm herself down. "we're clearly on Hogwarts grounds...but if we go to Hogwarts and see people dressed like Marie Antoinette —I swear I'll go into cardiac arrest."

"What's cardiac-"

" _Shut up_ , Ronald!" Hermione snapped, stomping her foot.

He flinched away, looking hurt and Hermione felt a pang of guilt through her panicked anger.

"Look, Ron," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm sorry, but I'm _terrified_. I'm panicking and I don't know what to do. I need you to _understand_ the implications of what happened."

She frowned as he nodded slowly, looking down and muttering an apology.

She sighed, looking around the forest. They seemed to be near the outer edges as Hermione bit her lip in thought. Clearly, they couldn't stay there. Well, they could – it may even be better. But she knew, they would be seen there just like they would anywhere else. Eventually, they'd get caught. The only thing to do is to go to the castle and hope they can find Dumbledore before anyone else sees them.

She had to believe that they hadn't gone THAT far back. Surely they were within the past 100 years or so, though that thought brought her little comfort. Professor Dumbledore was either headmaster or the Transfiguration teacher. He _had_ to be. They wouldn't make much headway at the Headmasters office. Even if Dumbledore WAS the Headmaster, they couldn't get in. The best idea was to go to the Transfiguration classroom. In which case, it would be Professor McGonagall and that wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Even if they did manage to get into the Headmasters office, she didn't want to have a run in with Headmaster Dippet—if they were that far back. But deep down, she knew they were years back. How it had felt...no, it wasn't a small amount of time.

She gripped her wand, looking down at her jeans, running shoes and pink tee shirt. Ron and Harry dressed very similarly. She groaned, knowing there was nothing to do about it. She didn't know what decade they were in and could possibly just end up making them look even more out of place. No—the best option in sight was not to be seen.

Who was she kidding? There was no best option. Every option was bad. Bad, bad, bad. She barely stopped herself from glaring at Ron before she began to speak.

"Okay, there's not much we can do, except try to find Professor Dumbledore." Hermione sighed dejectedly, crossing her arms.

Harry's expression looked pained and she reached out, grabbing his arm with a smile. A mixture of happiness, worry and sadness was mixed on Harry's face. She understood, because she felt the same way. They could see their Headmaster again...

"What—" Ron cleared his throat, looking slightly nervous still. "what if he—you know...hasn't been born yet?"

Hermione shook her head.

"As you would say, we'll be royally…. _fucked_."

((O))

"We're teenagers, we shouldn't sound like stampeding hippogriffs!" Hermione hissed as they shuffled awkwardly down the Hogwarts corridors.

The panicked looks made them stick out even more thank their probably odd clothing. Unless, of course, they were in the near – past. Yet, Hermione highly doubted that. How could they possibly be that lucky? Considering what happened, she supposed it wasn't entirely impossible they weren't in Marie Antoinette's time – she'd literally only been _half_ joking.

She somewhat felt like they might as well dress up like chickens are start clucking.

"Shhh, we're almost there!" Hermione exclaimed, seeing the Transfiguration classroom in sight. By some higher power, they hadn't run into anyone on the way there and Hermione instantly pegged that everyone was in Hogsmeade or something. Finally, some luck was on their side.

"Okay, on the count of three, we run across the hallway and into the classroom."

"What if someone's in there?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, use your eyes!" _'Or your brain'_ she added in her mind. "its almost dark, classes aren't this late!"

"Oh, right." he grumbled.

"Okay, one..." they all stepped forward, glancing behind them. "Two..." they approached the corner, gently peeking around it and Hermione let out a breath of relief when she saw no one.

"Three!" they awkwardly shuffled across the corridor, making more of a scene than Hermione would have preferred.

They flung open the door and closed it as quietly as possible, but of course, it made a loud banging noise. Hermione tensed, then let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Hermione, we'll let you do most of the talking." Harry nodded at her. "is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure..." Hermione sighed as they walked up to the office, knocking on the door and hoping to Merlin, Professor Dumbledore opened it.

It creaked open, making Hermione hold her breath in worry.

The very first thing her eyes met periwinkle robes.

Yeah, that was Dumbledore alright.

He auburn eyebrows rose in surprise, his blue, calculating eyes flicking over each teenager in confusion. Her heart lurched, seeing their beloved headmaster alive and well was an emotional experience. She glanced over at Ron and Harry. Ron looked somewhat tearful, while Harry looked as though he wanted to hug the man.

"Professor Dumbledore." Hermione squeaked, her voice breaking with emotion and taking in his youthful appearance. Granted, he still wasn't young, but he was MUCH younger than he had been in her time period.

 _Fuck._

"Yes, may I help you three?" he asked warily, looking momentarily confused.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione brought her hand up politely, clearing her throat. "we find ourselves, well, in a bit of a predicament. To be completely frank with you, we don't trust anyone, but you Sir."

He raised his eyebrows in alarm, but looked more curious now than suspicious. He stared into Hermione's eyes and she gasped when she felt a gentle nudge in her mind. She frowned, pulling forth only good intentions and he withdrew quickly.

"Forgive me, Miss…?" Dumbledore trailed off.

"Granger." Hermione nodded.

"Miss Granger," he nodded. "but I had to be sure you meant me no harm. One can never be too careful nowadays. With Grindelwald - I'm sure you understand, but I still sincerely apologize."

Hermione's face paled as Ron and Harry shot her panicked looks.

"Grindelwald..." she trailed off quietly, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

 _Double fuck._

((O))

Dumbledore watched the three over the desk, his fingers laced together in deep thought and the three remained quiet.

The only noise was Hermione's munching on lemon pastries. Great, now she was stress eating.

 _Thanks Ronald!_ She thought bitterly, shoving another pastry in her mouth, wishing it was chocolate. Ron was looking over at her, looking as though he was debating asking her for some of her pastries after he'd already eaten all his.

He didn't dare. Not from the bitchy look on the curly haired girls face.

Harry was looking at Dumbledore with an intense, sad expression. This definitely didn't escape his notice, as the older man kept glancing at him over his half-moon spectacles.

"So, you are from the year….1998?" he trailed off slowly, frowning.

"Yes, sir..." Hermione nodded, swallowing her last pastry.

"In the future, they just allow students to use time turners, do they?" he asked gravely, frowning in disapproval.

"Yes, sir..." she repeated uncomfortably. "you see, I wanted to take extra classes. Ronald got angry and broke it, then we ended up here."

"I didn't mean to!" Ron interjected. "I didn't know that when I slammed it on the ground, it would make this vortex-like thing!"

Dumbledore frowned, looking at them intensely as his intelligent blue eyes

"That doesn't make sense," Dumbledore said, leaning back. Though, it seemed to just be an observation. Clearly, he didn't think they were lying. "you know that I cannot send you back?"

"WHAT?"

"What do you mean?!"

"Yes, sir. I am aware."

All three answers were different, causing Harry and Ron's head to whip over to her.

Dumbledore looked at her grave face appreciatively. He could tell that she was the only one of the three that fully understood the implications of their actions.

"All I can do, is try to figure out what exactly happened," he said quietly, unlacing his fingers. "perhaps the answer lies there. I cannot promise much else."

"Not to sound incredibly selfish Professor," Hermione began, looking off to Ron and Harry. "but what do we do?"

Dumbledore thought for moments.

"I can enroll you in school."

Hermione looked taken aback.

"But sir, the timeline..." she said quietly.

"Has already been disrupted," Dumbledore said gravely. "that cannot be changed. Perhaps the three of you are supposed to be here. I wouldn't presume to know…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "we hide you, we don't hide you - either could be the incorrect move, you'd drive yourself crazy trying to find the right thing to do in this situation. So, I chose the option that won't drive you three into insanity."

Hermione swallowed thickly, nodding solemnly.

"Miss Granger, you can keep your name," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "you are muggleborn, yes?"

"Yes, sir..." Hermione nodded as he did.

"Obviously, Potter and Weasley are prominent Pureblood names," Dumbledore trailed off. "you will need different names."

"Evans." Harry said quickly, making Dumbledore nod as he scribbled his name down.

"Er..." Ron trailed off, looking lost. Chances were, he only knew mostly pureblood names.

"Wesley?" Hermione suggested.

Ron looked over at her, nodding slowly.

"Wesley would be alright, I suppose."

"I would say you were transfers from Durmstrang," Dumbledore said ruefully. "but as you know, Durmstrang does not accept muggleborns."

"I know French," Hermione suggested. "I could say I'm from Beaubaxtons."

"Too much room for error," Dumbledore shook his head. "someone could easily check to see if that were true. We have many dealing with Beaubaxtons – the headmistress visits Hogwarts from time to time."

Hermione frowned.

"America...is the only option," he said quietly, pulling out his wand and pointing it at them.

"Sir?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

He waved his wand, making her skin slightly more tan, as she looked down, seeing her hair had lightened several shades. Her clothes transfigured into plain Hogwarts robes. She reached down fingering the slightly lighter hair, looking like she had spent a decent amount of time in a sunny climate. Her skin was already very little tanned, but it was slightly more pronounced now. It wasn't really much of a change, it was subtle enough.

He waved it again, and Hermione saw no change.

"Sir? What did you do?" Hermione gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth. She had an...an American accent, sounding like she was from California or something.

He waved his wand over the two boys, tanning their skin slightly as well as giving them plain Hogwarts robes.

"What in the world?" Ron started, gasping in shock as a thick, southern American accent flowed out.

Hermione wanted to bust out laughing in his face at his alarmed expression. Perhaps his punishment was to be the one with _that_ accent.

"Uh..." Harry started. "its not that bad, mate."

Harry raised his eyebrows, having a distinct New Yorker accent.

"Hermione, you're from California," Dumbledore nodded. "Harry, you're from New York and Ronald, you're from Georgia."

Ron frowned, looking put out but didn't comment.

"You're from the Salem institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Hermione nodded, frowning.

"But sir, why are we here?"

"War."

"Right..." Hermione trailed off, feeling uncomfortable with her California accent, that honestly sounded too sweet-like. She sounded like her parents owned a mansion in L.A.

 _Ugh..._ she internally groaned, but what thankful she didn't have a thick southern accent like Ron. The thought put a smirk on her face.

"I'll take you to Headmaster Dippet," Dumbledore said, standing. "after an explanation and sorting, but first, I need to go over customs of 1944."

Hermione felt like passing out every time he said the year.

 _1944._

"We were all Gryffindor." Harry spoke suddenly, looking tense.

Of course, Harry didn't want to be sorted again. He barely escaped being in Slytherin the first time.

Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"I see. However, for appearance sake, I'm afraid it must be done again."

They all nodded, listening to Dumbledore as he went over many things they already knew, but he didn't know what the future was like...so they all listened respectively.

((O))

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted from Ron's head, Harry and Hermione showing no surprise as he lumbered off the stool.

"Mister Evans." Dippet gestured impatiently as Harry warily approached the sorting hat.

He lowered it on his head, and Harry instantly frowned, an intense look on his face. Hermione knew he was arguing with the hat.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Hermione bit her lip, looking down. Perhaps she should ask the hat to put her in Slytherin, so Harry wouldn't be alone? She doubted that would work, as she was a muggleborn...she could try.

Harry dejectedly walked away from the stool, Ron and Hermione giving him a pitying glace.

Hermione approached the stool, sitting down slowly.

 _ **Slytherin? A muggleborn?**_ The hat instantly started cackling, making Hermione scowl.

 _Yes, my friend needs me. I can't abandon him!_ Hermione thought desperately without much hope.

 _ **He belongs in Slytherin, you do not.**_

 _Look here!_ Hermione thought aggressively, _I've made my decision! So, you just bloody well put me-_

 _ **I admire your spunk**_ , the hat snickered. **_I'm sorry, but you don't belong there. The best I can do is…_**

"RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione pursed her lips. Harry didn't look surprised, but Ron was looking in between the two of them, appearing panicked. They were all three in separate houses.

She saw the hats logic, if she wanted to stay close to Harry, she was much more well suited in Ravenclaw than Gryffindor. Gryffindor and Slytherin hated each other too much. It would be much more difficult to stay close to Harry. Assuming not much had changed, nine times out of ten, Ravenclaw had classes with Slytherin.

"Excellent," Dippet commented, clapping his hands together. "I've sent for the Head Boy and girl. You're in luck, the Head Boy is Slytherin and the Head Girl is Ravenclaw."

"I can show Mister Wesley to Gryffindor," Dumbledore commented. "I am on my way there anyway."

"Of course," Dippet waved him off, looking distracted as Dumbledore led Ron out of the office, leaving Hermione and Harry to stand and stare at each other in plain Hogwarts robes.

"Mister Riddle and Miss Wiley are wonderful students-"

Hermione heard nothing further, as Hermione and Harry went rigid on the spot. Of course, how could she be so STUPID?!

 _Tom Riddle went to school in the forties!_

She was panicking and from the look on Harry's face, he looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. She reached and grabbed his hand to find it was shaking. He looked at her as she tried to convey with her eyes that it would be okay.

She couldn't believe she didn't even think of that fact, but how could she? She was so shocked about being in the past, her mind hadn't had room to register the fact that Voldie Jr. could possibly still be here. Not only that, Harry had to be around him every day.

 _Unless..._ she thought, looking off to the side at Harry. _What if...what if they killed him now?_

Harry side glanced her, as though he knew what she was thinking. She raised her eyebrow in question, making Harry swallow thoughtfully.

"We'll talk about it later," he said in a low voice so Dippet wouldn't hear.

Hermione bit her lip, squeezing Harry's hand as they stared at the door, trying not to look petrified.

"We need to act natural, not like we've just seen a Dementor!" Hermione mumbled quietly, glancing back towards Dippet, seeing him shuffling papers and not paying attention to them.

A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione and Harry jumped like someone had crucioed them.

"Jumpy from the war, eh?" Dippet asked, noticing their defensive postures.

"Er – yeah," Harry muttered lamely. His back tense, his green eyes darting from Hermione to the door.

"Come in."

 _Just breathe..._ Hermione chanted, staring at the opening door with a tense expression she couldn't seem to wipe off her face.

Harry just looked angry at this point, making Hermione nudge him.

Hermione's jaw dropped. She had heard that Tom Riddle was handsome, but fuck was that an _understatement_. Her eyes widened as his extremely tall form gracefully crossed the threshold, his dark eyes instantly landing and narrowing on the pair. He had wavy, jet black hair that fell across his forehead, right above his sinfully aristocratic face. A sharp jaw, chiseled features, high cheekbones that looked slightly hollowed and those long dark lashes that made most women angry.

He looked like some kind of fuckin' dark Adonis. Hermione wanted to to die as he approached them confidently, a mousy looking, small girl following behind him.

"These are the new students from America," Dippet said, walking up. "Harry Evans from New York and Hermione Granger from..." he trailed off, already forgetting.

"California, sir." Hermione said, cringing at her new voice.

"California, right!" Dippet smiled. "This is Head boy, Tom Riddle and Head Girl, Jennifer Wiley."

Tom Riddle's dark eyes flashed as he looked at them, raising an elegant eyebrow in Harry's direction. Hermione glanced at Harry and his face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with such hate, that it even shocked Hermione.

"Tom Riddle." he spoke suddenly, a shiver going down Hermione's spine at the smooth, deep voice.

He held out a pale, long fingered hand towards Harry—who stared at it, looking repulsed. Hermione actually thought he was going to refuse, but he placed his hand in his, looking pained as he did so.

Riddle cast him a questioning glance, but did not comment as his eyes trailed to her.

Hermione wished the earth would swallow her as she looked into his sinfully angelic face.

He reached the same hand out, making Hermione swallow and stretch out a newly tan, small hand towards him. She jumped as he quickly grabbed her hand, before letting it go as though she'd burned him...though he had done the same thing with Harry.

 _Probably assumes we're both muggleborn and doesn't want to touch us...fine with me,_ she huffed internally.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Granger." he said silkily, making Hermione's eyes widen even further, a deep red settling on her face.

He was—he was trying to charm her because she was a woman…Irritation flooded through her system, narrowing her eyes.

"Pleasure." she said in the same tone she'd used when she first met Ron—sarcasm and disgust.

The young Dark Lord looked extremely taken aback by her reaction. It seemed he'd forgotten all about Harry scowling at him.

He was quiet for moments, his sharp jaw twitching slightly.

"This is Jennifer Wiley, Head girl." he gestured to the mousy girl behind him. She looked at Riddle, turning red, then looked at Harry and turned even redder.

 _Poor girl_. Hermione thought, smiling at her.

"Its nice to meet you," Hermione said kindly, holding her hand out to the girl.

The small girl looked grateful at Hermione, gently shaking her hand for moments.

Tom Riddle had a slight glare in his intense eyes, before schooling it into an expressionless face.

"Miss Granger is in Ravenclaw and Mister Evans is in Slytherin," Dippet said, gesturing to them. "show them to their dorms, would you? I'm sure you'll have no issues showing them to their classes?"

"Of course, sir," Riddle said, locking his hands behind his back. "I would be glad to help."

Hermione wanted to smack him as she saw the pride in Dippets face.

"Right! Off you go," Dippet shooed, "good luck to you both!"

"Thank you, sir," Hermione and Harry said in unison, following Riddle and Wiley out of the Headmasters office.

They followed the Head students, but Wiley fell back in line with Hermione, smiling hopefully at her.

"I wanted to ask, how is California?" she asked hesitantly. "I bet it was really nice living there..."

She blanched slightly before answering.

"Oh yeah...really….sunny," she said. "and hot." she added lamely.

"I love your accent, its really nice." the girl complimented, giving her a smile and making Hermione grin back at her.

"Thanks. You should hear our other friend, Ron," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "he has a southern American accent."

"Like a cowboy?" the girl asked, looking alarmed.

She let out a bark of laughter, looking at Riddle's rigid posture. If he was eavesdropping, he didn't show it. But, she knew he had to be listening – how could he not?

"Exactly. It's ridiculous...to be honest," she smiled. "I'll introduce you tomorrow."

"Do you have your schedules yet?" the girl asked, looking hopeful.

"No, we have to do testing tomorrow." Hermione smiled, glancing over at Harry, seeing him glare at Riddle's back.

She frowned, looping her arm through Harry's and smiling at him. His eyes snapped to her, the green orbs softening slightly as they landed on her. Her eyes went to Riddle, and she noticed he was oddly silent. In the office, he'd seemed charming and talkative in front of the headmaster. But, now that they were alone, he turned mute and kept his distance.

He stopped, turning to look at the pair as his eyes flicked to their interlocked arms for moments before speaking.

"We must part ways here," he said smoothly, his face completely having lost the friendly expression he'd displayed earlier. "the Slytherin common room is located in the dungeons."

Harry nodded, looking at her reluctantly as she smiled encouragingly at him, letting go of his arm.

He shocked her when he wrapped her in a quick embrace, letting go without looking at her and wordlessly following Riddle, his ram-rod back clearly tense. Looking after them, it was astonishing how much _taller_ Riddle was. He had a good five inches on Harry and Harry _wasn't_ short.

She kept wondering if she should be worried. Logically, she knew she shouldn't. Riddle had no clue who Harry was. If anything, he looked mostly disinterested. She doubted he'd even bother with Harry. After all, the Dark Lord hated people. He only had use for them if he felt he could use them. She shouldn't be worried - yet she looked after them, feeling sick in her stomach.

"What did you think of Tom Riddle?" Wiley asked, the second the boys turned the corner.

She felt sick, her stomach flipping. She couldn't exactly say what she was really thinking.

 _Psychopathic future evil Dark Lord...but handsome._

"He's...nice." Hermione forced out, wanting to gag on the words.

"He's never had a girlfriend – can you imagine that?" she told her. "and its not like no ones wanted him. The prettiest girls have tried and he just ignores them or declines politely."

"Imagine that..." she trailed off, feeling uncomfortable as they walked up the spiral staircase to the Ravenclaw dorms.

"Maybe you'll have some luck," Wiley shrugged. "you know, if you were thinking about it. I know how handsome he is...but I'm not sure I'd waste my time."

Hermione blanched, giving her a flabbergasted look. _Her?_ Want _him?_ She hadn't checked the news, but she was pretty sure hell hadn't frozen over today.

"That's quite alright," she answered, pressing her lips in a thin line. "I'm not interested."

Now Wiley looked taken-aback.

"How could you not want him? He's so – so..."

 _Psycho._

"Ohhh," Wiley looked as though she understood perfectly. "Evans is your boyfriend, right? That's why you can't say that Riddle's-"

"Oh, no!" Hermione laughed, turning red and putting her hand on her heart. "he's just my best friend."

Wiley was looking at her suspiciously, clicking her tongue.

"Riggghhtt….well, this is the entrance," she waved to a great oak door with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. "it will always ask you a riddle. You must answer correctly to get in. I'll let you try."

She hit the knocker.

"The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?"

She stared at the handle, thinking. It was a little more clever than she had originally thought.

"A coffin..." she answered lowly, watching the door click open.

 _Wasn't that a little morbid?_ She thought with a frown as Wiley smiled and led her inside. She looked around, seeing that the room was very much like the Gryffindor common room, except the room was covered in blue and bronze. She zoned out as Wiley explained the dorms to her, already figuring as much – though she'd never been in the Ravenclaw common room.

She followed her up the stairs, finding the dorms essentially the same.

One girl turned to look at them. Hermione raised her eyebrows. It was just the three of them? Not even - Wiley had her own room, being head girl.

"This is your dorm mate. Beatrice Hudson." Wiley introduced the girl with long black hair and glasses, who smiled at her. "This is Hermione Granger."

"I'm so relieved you're here!" she exclaimed, making Hermione jump. "I've had to room alone for six years!"

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking around. "there's no one else?"

"Not many girls get sorted into Ravenclaw," Wiley smiled ruefully. "but, its nice to have your own space to study."

Now, Hermione liked the sound of _that._

"Your beds over there!" Hudson pointed, smiling happily and making Hermione slightly uncomfortable.

She walked up to her bed, seeing Ravenclaw colors on her new robes. The skirts were slightly longer than in her time and instead of flat shoes, there were heeled black Oxfords and slingbacks. Shoes popular in the 40's.

"Its time for dinner!" Hudson exclaimed.

Hermione could sense that her over excitement would be waning on her nerves. Yet, she supposed it would be better than having a bitchy roommate – like what she would have gotten in Slytherin.

"Let me change first." she smiled, picking up her robes.

"Right, we'll wait for you downstairs – I love your accent!" she added as they went out the door, making her smile and shake her head.

Hermione quickly changed, eager to check on Harry. She sped down the stairs, patting her hair down and she followed the chatty girls to the great hall.

Never did she ever think she'd miss Harry and Ron's quidditch talk.

They arrived in the great hall and she instantly started scanning the Slytherin table, her eyes immediately falling on Tom Riddle.

As if he sensed it, his eyes shot up, looking directly at her. His face remained completely expressionless, his dark eyes boring into her. She gave him a startled expression – noting that he was sitting completely alone – and looked away, turning red. It wasn't because he was handsome, but more of the fact that he would think she was staring at him because she fancied him or something.

The thought made her sick.

Her eyes continued to scan the table, finally falling on Harry. She smiled in relief, seeing him sitting with a somewhat burly boy and talking lightly. He looked somewhat uncomfortable, but not as completely as he had before.

Her eyes scanned the hall, falling on Ron at the Gryffindor table. Her jaw dropped, before snapping shut.

He was surrounded by girls. They were all looking at him with an interested expression, hanging onto his every word. It looked like Dumbledore had done him a favor. She shook her head, sitting next to the two girls, facing the Slytherin table.

She dug into the food and started loading her plate as students around them gave her curious glances and kept staring at her oddly.

"You know, I take what I said earlier back." Wiley whispered.

"What's that?" Hermione asked disinterestedly, spooning some potatoes in her mouth.

"About not having a chance with Riddle."

Hermione instantly started choking, coughing and punching her chest, making the potatoes go down as her eyes watered.

"I _told_ you, I don't want him-"

"He's staring at you." Wiley whispered excitedly.

 _Merlin, don't even look._ But she couldn't help it when her eyes snapped over to the Slytherin table, seeing Tom Riddle sitting at the end, alone – and he was indeed staring at her expressionlessly.

She pursed her lips, making herself look away. She was just something new to look at. Probably not the same reason a few other boys were looking at her – but still, it didn't mean anything.

"So?" she commented dryly, shifting in her seat as she drank from her goblet. "I'm new – that's all."

"No, he never does that." Wiley whispered, shaking her head. "we had a transfer from France last year and my God, she was gorgeous – not that you're ugly!" she said quickly, making Hermione roll her eyes. "-but yeah, she might as well have been a part of the wall. She even tried to get with him, he rejected her."

"Fascinating," she commented bitterly, glancing up to see his dark eyes still on her, making her frown and look back down. "as I said before, I have zero interest-"

"Oh, come on," Wiley cut in. "he's _still_ looking at you. You should-"

"He's not my type." she interjected quickly.

"How can tall, dark and handsome not be your type?" Wiley frowned, looking at her disapprovingly. "he's so _gorgeous..._ kind and helpful. Of course, there's rumors of him not being very nice-"

"You don't say." Hermione wanted to snort. Of course there was. He was the closest thing a human could be to being the devil himself.

"Yeah, but its codswallop in my opinion," she said, waving her hand off. "nothing you need to concern yourself with. People are just jealous of Riddle because he's so brilliant and handsome."

"Right." Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes dramatically when the girl wasn't looking, forgetting momentarily that Riddle was still looking at her.

She took a glance, her heart jumping when he was still staring. Why the hell was he looking at her like that? A terrifying thought ran through her mind: could he hear them? Surely not—no, that was stupid. He wasn't some kind of super human, despite what he may believe.

She looked away with a worried expression, cutting her food up slowly and forcing herself not to look back over at the Slytherin table. Even though she felt his powerful gaze linger for a while.

As they were walking back to their dorms, she heard Ron call out to her.

"Hey, Hermione!"

She paused, watching the Ravenclaw girls go red as Ron ran up to them.

"How do you like your house?" he asked in a thick, southern accent that made Hermione smirk.

"It's great," she said quickly. "this is Jennifer Wiley, head girl. And this is Beatrice Hudson, my dorm mate."

Ron nodded to them both.

"Pleased to meet you ladies."

Hermione wanted to slap him upside his head. It seemed he embraced the accent completely—even egging it on!

The girls muttered their hello's and Hermione couldn't help but to find it humorous how their personalities changed in the presence of boys.

Her eyes snapped towards the door, seeing Tom Riddle emerge. He didn't look at her this time, but walked right by as though she didn't even exist. He left girls giggling after him and whispering to each other. He seemed not to notice as he walked quickly and regally.

 _Ron doesn't even know..._ Hermione thought. Her and Harry needed to tell him as soon as possible. At the moment, Ron was the lucky one.

"Well, I'm gonna try to catch Harry," Ron smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah sure." Hermione smirked, shaking her head as she started walking with the chatty girls again.

When she'd finally made it to the dorm and crawled into the bed, she was sure she'd never been more exhausted in her entire life.


	2. Chapter Two: Black Honey

**A/N: Well, I'll be damned. I was remembered in the FIRST review I received! I swear, I have the COOLEST readers in the world! I know my name is similar, and perhaps my writing style, but its been so long...I really didn't expect that! Hats off to you, LadyRiddl! Yes, I am Radiant Innocence! Who is utterly locked from her account. I may repost the stories on here, so I can finish them. If anyone cares about my stories still, I'd like to hear from you! Should I pick up where I left off on my other stories and re-post? Let me know, my wonderful readers!**

 **Guest review: That's actually clarified in this chapter. But, perhaps it should have been done in the last. I'm a bit rusty, but I feel it coming back!**

 **Hopefully everyone can forgive my whole breaking back into this thing.**

 **Thank you to everyone that read, reviewed and added this as a favorite.**

 **Chapter Two: Black Honey**

 _ **I'll rip and smash through the hornet's nest  
Don't they understand I deserve the best  
And I'll do what I want, I'll do what I please  
I'll do it again till I got what I need **_

Hermione walked to the great hall with Harry and Ron after testing, rubbing her neck. She was pretty sure she got perfect scores, but the over-worried parts of her would never stop worrying that she'd failed everything.

"How are we supposed to even-" Ron trailed off helplessly, running his hand through his hair and still looking panicked.

Harry had told him last night and Ron did _not_ take it well. He was in full panic mode, and Hermione couldn't stress to him how bad that was going to be if Riddle noticed.

 _Maybe he's so arrogant he'll think he naturally strikes fear,_ she snorted in her head.

"Ron, you cannot act like you've seen a bloody banshee every time you see him," Hermione his as they approached the doors. "It'll look suspicious to anyone— _especially_ him."

"I can't just _act normal_ for Merlin's sake, he's-"

"Shhh!" Hermione hushed, cutting him off. "don't discuss that in public."

"I'm just saying..." Ron mumbled. "and to think, I thought this would make it easier for us, I'd rather be hiding in a tent...we're _still_ going to-"

Hermione glared at him. He was going to talk about hunting Horcruxes in public? That was _so much_ better. Not that they'd had much of a chance to do anything. Of course, it was a dream come true to get to go to Hogwarts during their 7th year. After all, Tom Riddle had way less Horcruxes than he did in the future. Except this time, they'd have to steal them from right under his nose.

He actually had a nose these days.

In any case, they were still deciding if they should do such a thing. Of course, they hadn't brought it up to Dumbledore, and doing such a thing...well—she wasn't sure what that would cause. Perhaps she'd seen to many muggle movies, but all she could picture was ripping the space—time continuum, or something else equally dramatic. However, the young Dark Lord vs. her, Harry and Ron was hard to pass up. Surely, they could win? He was only a teenager, but she'd yet to see his magical abilities.

Ron was looking like a ghost as the three walked into the hall. Harry was oddly quiet, but Hermione left him to his thoughts. She didn't want to bother him.

She walked up to Jennifer Wiley, sitting down heavily.

"How was the testing?" she asked, noticing Hermione as she drank from her goblet.

"Fine, but I have a headache…" Hermione said, rubbing her temples as her eyes trailed over to Riddle. She almost let out a sigh of relief to see him eating slowly, looking at a book he had open on the table.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione whipped around, seeing Professor Slughorn standing behind her, looking younger and _not quite_ as round. She was somewhat startled. In a way, she'd been expecting him to be a least a lot smaller. Lord, the man had always ate sweets, didn't he? She was going to turn into him if she wasn't careful. She kept stress eating, that and the month they'd been on the run, she'd felt close to starving most of the time.

"Professor Slughorn, potions master," he held out his hand happily, pulling her out of her thoughts and taking Hermione's briefly. "when I saw your test scores, I simply had to come introduce myself and give your schedule to you!"

"Its a pleasure, Professor." Hermione said kindly, but she wanted to roll her eyes.

He smiled, handing her the schedule.

"Now, the only other student in that many classes is Mr. Riddle," Slughorn said happily, making Hermione tense. "if you don't mind, I can ask him-"

"No!" Hermione blurted without thinking, Slughorn giving her an alarmed expression.

 _Oh yeah, Mr. Perfect. Mr. Can do NO wrong...Mr. Insane psychopath._

"I – I mean," she chuckled awkwardly, trying to sound less...odd. "I'm sure Mr. Riddle is busy with him own house. I can manage; the head girl is very helpful." she added carefully, smiling at Wiley, who returned it.

Slughorn looked more understanding now.

"That's very thoughtful of you," Slughorn commended happily. "if you change your mind, I'm head of Slytherin—just give me the word."

"Yes, thank you Professor." Hermione smiled as he looked at her hopefully.

"Have a great first day—I believe you have my class first," Slughorn said proudly. "double potions with Slytherin!"

 _Ugh._ She thought, somewhat annoyed, but didn't let it show on her face.

"See you there professor." Hermione said kindly as Slughorn hobbled off.

"He's looking at you again." Wiley instantly said in a sing song voice, making Hermione tense.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then slowly opened them to see he was indeed looking at her. The same emotionless mask was on his face, his dark eyes feeling like they were penetrating her soul. His emotionless face was somewhat... _disturbing_ , regardless of how handsome he was. Didn't anyone _else_ think so? Clearly, someone did, as she could see him sitting alone _again_.

She pursed her lips, looking away as she stabbed some green beans and tried to ignore his menacing stare.

"Merlin, you _do_ have as many classes as Riddle!" Wiley said, picking up her schedule. "you must be really smart."

Hermione blushed lightly, unable to stop herself from feeling flattery rise in her.

"I guess so..." she trailed off.

"You'll have to find someone else to show you for these three classes," she pointed to Advanced Arithmancy and Advanced Runes. "I don't take them."

"I'm sure I can," she smiled at her. She would find someone, she didn't need Slughorn taking matters into his own hands.

She glanced up, looking relieved when his eyes were back on his book and food.

They finished up lunch, walking through the castle together as they entered potions together.

"My partners over there!" she said, bouncing off and leaving Hermione. Luckily, her eyes found Harry as she made her way over to him, sitting down.

"Are you okay?" she whispered as Harry looked over at her, looking relieved.

"We'll talk later." he muttered, looking as though he didn't feel comfortable, looking over at Riddle.

Her eyes followed, seeing the handsome males back and noticing he was sitting in the front—alone.

Odd, didn't he have a group of followers in Hogwarts? Perhaps he didn't like to be around them in public and only associated with them behind closed doors?

She snapped out of her thoughts as she saw Slughorn approaching them, smiling at her hugely.

"Hello you two!" he said happily, grabbing his suspenders and mostly looking at Hermione.

"Hello professor." they said in unison, side glancing each other.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting caught up," he said happily. "but, just to be sure, I'm going to pair you with my best students for a little while."

Hermione's face paled as she side glanced at Harry. She knew one was…

"Miss Granger, please go up front with Mister Riddle," he said and she looked sick. Yet she was glad it was her and not Harry—he deserved a break. "and Mister Potter, you can go sit with Mister Black."

Hermione slowly stood, grabbing her bag as Harry cast her a worried glance. Harry moved up one, sitting next to another handsome Slytherin boy.

Her hand shook on her bag slightly as they approached Riddle's desk.

"My boy," Slughorn said, making Riddle look up sharply, his eyes falling on her momentarily as she stared at the desk. "you wouldn't mind partnering with a lady for a few classes and showing her the ropes, now would you?"

"Not at all professor," he said in a kind voice. "it would be my pleasure."

"Always so kind and considerate." Slughorn said happily, motioning Hermione to sit next to him.

She bit her lip and sat in the seat quickly, trying to nonchalantly move the chair as furthest from him as the desk would allow. She stopped when she could feel his powerful eyes on her, making her halt and take a deep breath, setting her hands on the desk and pointedly looking up front. She didn't want his _help._ She didn't need his _help_.

"Quiet, quiet!" Slughorn hushed, looking around the room happily. "today, we'll be brewing a new potion!" he exclaimed, gesturing to a bubbling cauldron on his desk. "can anyone tell me, just by looking, what this potion is?"

Hermione stared into the cauldron for a moment, raising her hand at lightening speed.

Slughorn looked at her, alarmed, before a huge grin spread on his face.

"Let's allow someone new to answer for once, my boy." Slughorn said, making her look over to see the handsome male beside her slowly lowering his hand and turning to look at her expressionlessly.

"Its the hate potion, sir," Hermione clarified, looking away from the young Dark Lord. "it reveals the worst traits and habits of a particular person to the drinker."

Slughorn looked taken surprised for moments, before a huge grin broke out on his face.

"Excellent!" he gushed. "ten points to Ravenclaw!" he looked exceptionally pleased, "we'll be brewing this potion with our partners instead of individually. Help each other and begin!" Slughorn announced as students began standing to get ingredients.

"I'll get them." Riddle said quickly before she could stand and took off before she could reply. She frowned, looking to see Slughorn watching the display and nodding approvingly. _He probably thinks that he's just being a polite gentleman, when really, he's just a control freak..._ she snorted in her head.

She didn't look at him as he came back with the ingredients. She heard him pull out his cauldron, setting it on the table without a word as he squeezed lemon inside, setting the flames underneath.

Hesitantly standing, she reached for the fluxweed, only to have it snatched away before she could even touch it. "What-"

"Its your first day, I can do the potion." he said politely, but didn't look at her. It was a polite way to say, 'sit down, shut up, I'm doing this.' she glared at the side of his handsome face. She wasn't just some moron he could boss around!

"I'm quite alright, thank you for your concern, Mister Riddle." she said in an almost sickly sweet voice, the end of it biting as she grabbed the Knotgrass, putting it in a single layer as she took her silver knife out of her bag.

"I _must_ insist..." he said politely, with a slight edge to his voice, though he made no move to grab the Knotgrass. Perhaps because he may touch her doing so, as he seemed to avoid all human contact outside when it was absolutely necessary—like their meeting...or maybe because of the fact Hermione was holding a silver knife. She imagined stabbing his hand with the blade when he reached over to be rude, and she couldn't help it when a small smile came on her face. She knew she shouldn't think things like that, but he was...well, _him—_ and he deserved it.

"Look Granger," he suddenly hissed in a biting voice, making Hermione jump at the drastic difference. "I don't need your help. I'm warning you—sit down." he finished in a low, hissing voice. She looked up at him, her eyes widening in alarm as she saw his eyes practically burn in her direction, an almost snarl distorting his handsome face. Shock crossed his face when a small smile came on Hermione's face.

"I was wondering how long you were going to fake it," she said somewhat sarcastically, making his eyes narrow. "not so nice now—are you?" she asked, waving her knife and shaking her head. She couldn't help it when a small dose of fear entered her heart, as she knew who he was and his dark eyes were looking positively lethal.

"That's right," he said lowly, slightly alarming her. He was going to admit it? "it was all an act. So, shut up and sit down. Let me make the potion, or you'll be sorry Granger."

"….."

He turned back towards the potion, snatching the Knotgrass from under her stilled hands, laying it in a line and chopping it quickly with his silver knife. Anger flowed through Hermione. He bullied the world enough when he was older, practically ruining her world but that wasn't enough, was it? She couldn't even make a potion in class without him ruining it. She fought the childish impulse to just shove his ass the ground.

She seethed, shoving her hands in her dragonhide gloves as she grabbed the horntail dragon scales. She felt him pause beside her, probably because she _still_ disobeyed him.

"I thought I made myself-"

"Shut the hell up Riddle," she instant bit out, cutting him off. "you're pissing me off. Stop being a bullying prick and let me do my part."

Dead silence met her ears from his end and she smirked to herself, knowing that he'd probably never had anyone speak to him that way...especially a female. She knew ladies in that time period never spoke so vulgar, but she wasn't from that time period. Also, she wasn't supposed to be from there. Perhaps he'd just think American women were super vulgar.

To her extreme surprise, he said nothing at all and when she sprinkled the crushed dragon scales in the cauldron, he stirred it clockwise, adding the essence of devils snare. His lack of response should have made her feel more victorious, but she couldn't stop herself from worrying. It probably wasn't a good idea to have spoken to him that way—wait no, was she bloody insane? She agonized the more she thought about it. He was still the Dark Lord and surely, he wasn't going to let her get away with it? He was a slimy Slytherin that did everything behind closed doors. The best explanation she could come up with is that she had subconsciously separated Tom Riddle from Voldemort. Though, that wasn't the case. He'd already murdered his father and grandparents...she gulped, looking over at his hands. Her heart jolted when she saw the Gaunt ring on his unnaturally long finger. Her eyes snapped away with another gulp as they finished the potion in silence.

When the last few steps came around, she started to notice that he was doing things that weren't in the instructions.

"Riddle-"

"Shut the hell up Granger," he interjected lowly, in an ice cold voice. "stop being an annoying know-it-all and let me finish the potion."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock as she looked over at him. His face was expressionless, so she couldn't tell if he was mocking her to say that he wouldn't forget what she said to him, or if he was making a – a _joke_. _There's no way,_ Hermione thought, shaking her head. He didn't joke; it may be meant to be taken that way...so she'd think he was over it, then he could attack her later. That seemed much more likely.

"Erm-" she started, trailing off. She _wasn't_ apologizing to him. "I was just asking what you were doing to the potion-"

"I hope it was enjoyable."

Hermione flinched back, staring at him uncertainly as he seemed to finish up the potion, turning down the heat and looking to the front of the class.

"Erm—excuse me?" she asked, hating how her voice sounded slightly more high pitched.

"Perhaps I should re-phrase that statement," he observed quietly, locking his hands behind his back and looking ahead expressionlessly. "I hope it was _worth it._ "

She paled out, understanding perfectly the implications behind what he just said. She was right, that's why he didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He was a Slytherin—he'd win later, behind closed doors. He must be angry, but he wasn't going to bite back at her and risk a confrontation in front of his favorite professor. It may damage his image. She suddenly felt regret go through her veins.

 _Just be careful, never be caught alone and you'll be fine,_ she thought to herself, hoping it to be true. They sat in silence the rest of the class, Hermione jumping and clutching her wand with force every time the handsome Slytherin so much as crossed his legs. She was sorely regretting her choice to bite back—but she couldn't help it. She hated him so much, it just came out.

He didn't say anything else and didn't look at her for a long while. She eyed the potion, her mouth falling for moments when she saw it was beyond perfect. She knew she could get the potion perfect—but his, was a whole new caliber. The sheen coming off the potion told of its perfection, making her eyes narrow over at his perfect face. How did he do that? As she looked at him, she wondered how he was even human. He had to be the most inhuman person on this planet—though he would take that as a compliment, she meant it in no such way. Her eyes traveled down his form, pausing on his pale wrist when she saw black, spider like veins trailing from the palm of his hand and into his wrist. _What – what the hell is that?_ She blinked in shock, before she noticed it was gone. As she started to wonder if she imagined it, she looked up and immediately regretted it. His dark eyes were on her, full of revolution. She flinched as he stared at her with hate-filled eyes, the blackness in his eyes seeming to swirl as she stared, confused and more than a little frightened.

"Wonderful!" Hermione jumped, turning to see Slughorn staring into their cauldron with a pleased expression. "its perfect! As always!" he smiled at Riddle. "ten points to Ravenclaw and ten points to Slytherin." he tapped his wand against his clipboard, making two 'O's appear beside their names. "I might need to keep you two partners, other students may try to leech off your genius." he whispered in a low voice.

Dread filled her, as she made no comment. Riddle didn't make a comment either, but she knew he would not be pleased with that idea. Perhaps Slughorn was just making a throwaway comment, and after a moment, she surmised that Riddle had come to the same conclusion and it was probably best not to draw attention to it—lest he actually start to consider it.

Slughorn straightened up, going around to the other students and showing mostly disappointment as he looked in their cauldrons.

"Hello."

Hermione jumped slightly as she turned to see the handsome boy that was partnered with Harry whom was standing next to him.

"Hi..." Hermione said lowly, giving him a smile as her heart stomach fluttered lightly at the boys playful smile.

"I'm Alphard Black," he clarified, sticking his hand out towards Hermione. "you're Hermione Granger, yes?"

"Yes, that's right," she answered, placing her hand in his, her eyes widened as he pulled her hand up, kissing the back with a mischievous smirk. Harry didn't look pleased as he glared at the black boy.

"I am completely and totally enchanted." he said charmingly, making Hermione turned red.

"Alright, that's enough," Harry cut in, pulling Hermione's hand out of the Black boys hand, making him roar in laughter.

"Oh come on, didn't realize she was yours Evans." he said mischievously.

"She's not—its not like that!" Harry exclaimed, his face turning red along with Hermione's.

Black rolled his eyes. "Right, whatever you say Evans."

Hermione bristled in her seat, she wasn't use to a handsome boy giving her attention. Merlin knew she wasn't exactly what men highly desired, and she'd never been popular with boys. She knew it was because she was new and had a different accent—that's all it was.

"Its true!" Harry insisted, but his green eyes flashed in humor.

"Then go away and let me flirt with the bird then!" Black shooed his hand at Harry, making his face turn red as Hermione flushed at the bold statement.

"Bird?" she asked, looking taken aback as Black's eyes fell on her, humor swirling in the depths.

"See what you've done Evans? Because of you, she heard me call her bird—you're ruining my chances, _sod off_!" he laughed as Harry gave him an affronted expression.

She couldn't help it when her lips trembled and she burst into laughter. As she did so, both boys looked at her and Alphard Black was looking particularly pleased with himself. His smile slightly fell as he looked next to her, the humor draining from his eyes as a frightened expression crossed his face.

"Riddle, hope you're well." Black said, nodding his head respectfully.

Hermione turned, seeing Riddle leaning back in his chair, twirling his wand in his hand. He was acting like that potions chair was a damn throne as he assessed Black carefully. She was sure it was to draw out intimidation, and from the tense look on Black's face, it was working.

After an eternity, Riddle lowly answered him in a cold voice. "I'm well, thank you."

Black let out a breath she didn't realize he was holding, as he nodded shakily, turning towards her with a smile. But, his eyes were strained behind her.

"Ce fut un plaisir, madame." he said to Hermione, wiggling his eyebrows and making her chuckle at his attempt at flattery in somewhat broken French.

"Non, le plaisir était le mien, monsieur." she answered smoothly without missing a beat.

Alphard looked extremely shocked, her french clearly much better than his. But he did looked very impressed. "Tu connais le français?"

"Oui," Hermione said simply. "Depuis que j'étais enfant."

He grinned hugely, looking over at Harry. "Evans, that's it, I'm in love."

Hermione began laughing again as Harry rolled his eyes. "We have to go, I'll talk to you later Hermione." he said quickly, grabbing Black and pulling him along as Black cried out, "No, not yet! I need to woo!"

Hermione shook her head, laughing lightly to herself as she turned back and faced the front of the classroom again. She tried to ignore the dark stare into the side of her face. He probably wasn't the least impressed that she spoke French, considering she knew him to be a Parselmouth. However, unlike him, she had to learn French – she wasn't born with it.

Slughorn signaled the end of class and Hermione jumped up, packing her stuff as quickly as she could manage.

"I'll talk with you later as well."

She froze at the low, cold, hissing voice. She turned to look beside her, only seeing him regally walking away from her, his black robe billowing behind him. Girls stared after him, a dreamy look in their eyes.

Well...that was a threat. Even an idiot would have recognized that as a threat. She groaned, her hands shaking lightly as she finished putting her stuff in her bag. She really needed to talk to Harry, though she wasn't sure she should tell him. He may try to intervene and get himself in trouble. Riddle had complete access to Harry in the Slytherin dorms.

She frowned at keeping something from her best friend, though.

"Did he bother you?" Harry said instantly when he walked up to her, looking stressed.

"No," she lied through her teeth. "he's a very angry person, though."

"we need to go to the room of requirement before dinner," Harry said quietly, "we need to talk."

Hermione nodded as Harry grabbed her hand, rushing them out of the classroom and down the corridor. They looked around, making sure they were alone as they rushed through the castle. Finally, they approached to room and Harry paced in front of it, letting go of her hand and watching doors appear.

They walked in, seeing the Gryffindor common room as Hermione remembered it. She gave a small smile.

"There's something wrong with Riddle." said Harry instantly, looking at Hermione and getting straight to business.

"Because that hasn't escaped my notice." Hermione shook her head, pulling Harry's tense form to the couch and sitting him down.

"No, Hermione, I'm serious..." he trailed off, frowning. "there's something...I don't even think Dumbledore knew about it." he ran his hand through his hair, making it messier than before.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, tilting her head.

"Its just...I don't know what it is," Harry trailed off. "the way he acts—its _weird_ , even for him."

She bit her lip in thought, looking towards the fire. Of course, she had thought the same thing actually. He was alone all the time. He didn't show aggression in public, but he wasn't exactly approachable. He had this dark aura around him, that apparently, some were immune to.

She suddenly remembered something. "In potions..." she trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I thought I saw...I don't even know— _black veins_ on his wrist."

"Black veins?" Harry asked curiously, thinking hard. "well...that's not exactly normal, is it?"

"No, not even..." she relied quietly. "I wondered for moments if I imagined it, because when I looked back, it was gone."

"No, I really doubt you did," Harry mused. "his eyes...something is not normal about him, but I can't figure out what."

"Well, we knew he wasn't normal Harry-"

"No, not like that," Harry cut in, shaking his head. "he's... _different_ in a way not even Dumbledore knew. I just don't know how – or what _it_ is. I'm almost sure. I think you'd have to be in Slytherin to notice." Harry mused. "how he stays away from people – he's hiding something, I'm sure of it."

"He's hiding Horcruxes?" Hermione suggested, making Harry shake his head again.

"No, its not like that," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "there's something about _him_ as a person that's not... _right._ I just don't know what it is."

"Like, something he was born with?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.

"Maybe," Harry muttered blandly. "I really don't know. It makes me uneasy, though. Its like this—this...don't you see it?"

"See what?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Its...this...dark presence with him." Harry tried to explain lamely, holding out his arms. "that's the only way I can even begin to explain it – I honestly don't even know how to explain it. I just hoped you knew was I was talking about." he frowned.

"Dark...presence?" Hermione asked, looking taken aback. "his aura is dark because he's a dark wizard-"

"No, no..." Harry trailed off. "I didn't really feel or notice it in the graveyard..." he swallowed thickly at the memory. "but that was a separate situation I suppose. The more I observe him, the more dark I see..." he trailed off quietly, looking troubled.

Hermione shifted in her seat. Of course, she believed Harry. His intuition was wonderful, and he'd never lie to her. Also, though she didn't voice it...he did have a connection with the Dark Lord. If there was something – something else – _abnormal_ , Harry should notice it over anyone else.

"I did see the black veins..." Hermione trailed off, looking at him. "maybe you're onto something...maybe this is good. Maybe its a weakness? We just have to figure out..." she stopped talking, seeing his expression.

Harry swallowed thickly, his eyes somewhat large.

"That's just it..." he spoke quietly. "I don't think its a weakness...it feels more like a _power_ _—_ One we never would have anticipated..." he looked tortured as he squeezed his hands together. "something that just...makes me feel like we _never even_ had a _chance_ in the future..."

Her eyes widened at the haunted, dreading looking on Harry's face.

 _What on earth was wrong with the teenage Tom Riddle?_

"Its okay Harry," Hermione said quietly, grabbing his face gently. "listen to me, this is a good oppurtunity for us..." she trailed off quietly, before continuing gently. "think about it, he has – what – two Horcruxes at this point? And they're _here_ in the castle."

"...I don't think it'll be that easy..." he said quietly, looking away from her.

"Since when has anything we've ever done been easy Harry?" she asked, raising her eyebrow and shaking her head. "that doesn't mean it shouldn't be done...sometimes we have to chose between what is right, and what it easy – or so a wise man once said." she gave him a watery smile as he looked at her quickly, his green eyes softening.

"So, what do you think we should do?" He asked, looking more determined than before.

"Observe him," she instantly said. "know your enemy. Although this is the same person, he is young and hasn't went through so many dark transformations. Know his schedule, his habits... _everything_ , no matter how insignificant."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Hermione." Harry commented lightly, looking at her fondly.

"Eh—crash and burn." she waved her hand, shrugging and smiling.

He smiled, but she still saw that look in his eyes—that haunted, suspicious….almost _hopeless_ look. As though deep down, he knew something she didn't, something he wasn't even aware he knew.

Nothing made sense anymore.

(((((((((((O))))))))))))))

" _It was a pleasure, madame." he said to Hermione, wiggling his eyebrows and making her chuckle at his attempt at flattery in somewhat broken French._

" _No, the pleasure was mine, sir." she answered smoothly without missing a beat._

 _Alphard looked extremely shocked, her french clearly much better than his. But he did looked very impressed. "You know french?"_

" _Yes," Hermione said simply. "since I was a child."_


	3. Chapter Three: Twin Flames

**A/N: I can't even begin to express how much I missed writing! I have some down times nowadays. Now that I'm not working 50 hrs a week and have essentially turned into a house wife, I have more time on my hands to write.**

 *****intense eye roll*** yes, I forgot to tag Tom and Hermione as the actual pairing in the summary. Even without, I though it seemed to be pretty obvious this is a Tomione, but apparently not. Maybe that's just because I'm the author. So, my bad.**

 **Also, I do not write fluffy Tom. If you want a fluffy Tom...Lordddddd, you had best turn around right now. I don't believe in fluffy Tom, and I do not like him. Of course, there will be romance, or I wouldn't have put that in the tag. But its farrrr from typical.**

 **This WILL be rated M for a reason! I like lemons & I write torture as well. Of course, I do not agree with abusive relationships and you should never stay in one, no matter the reason. This is purely fictional.**

 **Lady Riddll: You're the best, you need to know that. I can't even begin to express how wonderful it is to have such a loyal reader! Perhaps I'll continue my other two stories because you asked! Though, I do need to find my muse for them again. I had big plans for them, but its been so long, I don't want to ruin it! No apologies, your English is better than many native speakers...trust me : ) I get a marriage proposal? I'm totally flattered xD at least, I hope that's what you said. Its going to be highly awkward if not LOL.**

 **Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! As always, excuse any errors. I don't have a Beta.**

 **Chapter Three: Twin Flames**

 _Baby, watch as I step into flames for you  
Baby, watch me combust and explode for you  
Baby, watch as I burn  
Baby, watch as I burn for you  
One last time_

 _We were on fire  
A frequency of me and you  
We were on fire  
One flame bursting into two  
We were on fire  
We watched the whole world burn away  
We were on fire  
I was you and baby you were me  
You crawled into these flames with me _

Hermione had never been so glad to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Though she missed Gryffindor and she felt that she was a Gryffindor at heart, it was so much easier to be close to Harry and help him in Ravenclaw. It was proof that she made a good decision, seeing as her and Harry had barely got together with Ron very much over the week. It was just too hard, they were so separated. Not to mention, Ron was enjoying himself WAY too much. He had a following of girls that followed him around and hung on his every southern word.

Riddle, however, had ignored her existence for a week. She did not let her guard down; not trusting him to attack her the second she relaxed—she wasn't about to _relax_. He didn't look at her—didn't speak. Nothing. Not that she was complaining, she was bloody grateful. She watched him, in what she hoped was a discreet way, looking for anything else odd. No doubts he noticed her watchful eye, but didn't show he noticed.

She swore she could practically hear 'Lacrimosa' by Mozart playing in her head whenever she looked his way. The ominous death march should be his theme song when he arrogantly walked through the castle...Merlin, was he handsome though. A part of her felt bad for thinking so, but she wasn't _blind_. He was an evil, horrible, wretched person—but that didn't mean he was physically ugly. He charmed all the professors with precision, wooing all the girls around him with very little effort—or, _no_ effort really when it came to girls. Girls tripped all over themselves to get near him, yet they never seemed to speak to him. They just blushed and watched him with dreamy eyes. Hermione watched, but did neither of the things the other girls did. He was almost constantly under her critical eye, as she watched him intently—looking for black veins or the "darkness" Harry had been referring to. There were many times she wanted to drop-kick him off his metaphorical high horse. Perhaps it was his whole, 'purebloods are better' attitude that made her want to resort to muggle combat, because she never wanted to punch someone so much in her life—even more than Malfoy, but she'd already made that come true.

She'd yet to see—but by Merlin, was she _watching_. She watched how he always had oatmeal with strawberries in the morning; how he always seemed to pick orange juice over pumpkin juice. He was always expressionless, but there was always a slight crease in his dark, elegant brows when he was reading or listening to a lecture in class. He tapped his long fingers against the desk when he was annoyed or impatient—he subtly kept a watchful eye on everything going on around him. His dark gaze was ever watchful, quietly observing his surroundings, almost acting as though he'd served in the military and was constantly making plans if something were to happen. His appearance? His robes were always impeccable, as was his hair and just his _entire_ appearance. She'd even noticed his teeth, which were perfectly straight and white. It was almost annoying to her, someone so evil shouldn't look that _perfect_. Though, she did remember her mother telling her that the devil walked the earth as the most handsome man alive.

She cringed.

No matter the question, he knew the answer. In _every_ class. A few times (not many, mind you)...she didn't know the answer; probably because texts had changed. But Tom Riddle's large, long-fingered hand was always in the air, answering with a questioning tone, as though he wasn't sure of the answer...as though he wasn't aware of his own brilliance.

She called him a prat in her mind many times a day.

She watched him through squinted eyes as he dabbed his thin, light pink lips with a napkin. He elegantly sat it down and reached for the orange juice past the pumpkin, making her smirk. Yet, she felt like some kind of... _stalker_. No, she wasn't following him and lurking behind tapestries and hiding in his bedroom closet, but she felt like she might as well have been. It was like she was some kind of weirdo obsessed with the Dark Lord. She was glad he was at least handsome, it made him more bearable to look at than his future appearance. Though, his almost 24/7 emotionless face made looking at him disturbing at times.

"You're totally obsessed with him." Wiley said as she sat down, making Hermione's eyes widen and snap away with a flush.

"I am not!" she hissed at the brown haired girl.

"You stare at him constantly-"

"I don't trust him!" she said lowly, looking around.

"Oh, is that why all the girls stare at him?" she asked, shaking her head. "Ohhhh Tom, you're so untrustworthy!" she said dramatically, fluttering her blue eyes.

"Ugh, shut up Wiley." Hermione grumbled. She supposed her friend thinking she had a crush on him wouldn't hurt anything, it gave her an excuse to be looking at him. No one could know her real motive and she watched him too much for people close to her not to notice. If they thought that she – that she – _liked_ him, then maybe no one would point fingers at her if he turned up dead. It was actually better if people thought she was infatuated with the Head boy, yet the thought of anyone thinking she had a crush on _him_ made her gag reflex want to react.

"Oh, its Wiley now is it?" she asked, smirking. "what happened to Jennifer?"

"Your name went out the door with your Tom Riddle beliefs," Hermione clarified, taking a deep breath and wanting to die on the spot. "I mean..." she shifted uncomfortably. "he's so...er—he's so handsome," she turned red, but not for the reasons that Jennifer would assume. "of course I...like him."

Jennifer just grinned at her like a Cheshire cat.

"I hate your guts." Hermione smirked at the girl, who laughed.

Hermione's eyes traveled back to the table, choking up her pumpkin juice when she saw Tom Riddle staring at her. She bit her lip, staring back with a worried expression. He hadn't so much as acknowledged her existence in about a week now. Why was he looking now? The feeling that he could actually hear them struck her again, but surely, that couldn't be the case? If it was, she'd just go ahead and fling herself off the astronomy tower now. But she supposed he already thought she fancied him, with the way she stared at him.

She never thought she'd somewhat wish she was a boy.

His emotionless face was disturbing, but it got twice as disturbing as he started to eat at the same time. Her face paled and she looked away, feeling as though he had finally decided to act on his threat to her and he wanted her to know it.

Eating slowly, she swallowed, taking a deep breath before looking back over at him.

He was still staring.

 _Fuck._

Today was Saturday and most students would be going to the village. Of course, her, Ron and Harry couldn't go. They had no parents or guardians to sign the papers. She supposed that she could ask Dumbledore, but he'd done enough for them.

She'd mostly planned to stay in the library with Harry and Ron. She had a sinking feeling that she needed to keep company today, though. She forced herself not to look back over at him as students got up to leave for the village. After a while, Harry sat down next to her.

She smiled up at him, which he returned.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"I saw him last with Rachael Patil." he said, rolling his eyes. "doesn't matter, ready?" he asked.

"Um—yeah, lets go," she said, sitting her goblet down and taking Harry's hand. It was still weird looking at him in the Slytherin green robes.

As they walked to the library, she was extra tense. She just had a bad feeling, though the fact that Harry was next to her made her feel slightly better...her nerves were still on edge.

They went to the library and sat in the back, she wasn't surprised to find it completely empty.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "I was thinking of a plan-"

Hermione instantly put her finger on his lips, making him give her a confused expression as she shook her head quickly with wide eyes.

"What?" he said, muffled by her finger as she removed it.

"I don't..." she trailed off quietly. "I don't have a good feeling, is all."

He frowned, scratching his head. "We could go...there."

Her frown deepened. No, that wasn't a good idea either. She had a nagging feeling about Riddle today and he didn't need to know that they knew about the room of requirement.

She just shook her head, looking down at her potions book.

"Later." she said quietly.

As they sat in the library, her eyes darted around at every little noise. She pulled the sleeve of her turtleneck gray sweater in a ball in the palm of her hand, squeezing it every few minutes.

"Evans."

Hermione paled at the voice behind her, becoming very still.

Harry's eyes flashed as he looked behind her.

"Yes, Riddle?" he said lowly. "what can I do for you?"

"Black is looking for you."

Hermione's eyes widened, turning to look at the handsome Head boy. He had abandoned the outer robes, his tall form standing regally as his eyes flashed darkly in her direction.

"Ah, well..." Harry cleared his throat. "thanks for telling me."

"I believe he's in the Slytherin common room." Riddle continued, sounding too persuasive and innocent for her liking.

He was trying to get rid of Harry so he could attack her, she was _sure_ of it.

"I'll find him later," Harry said, now sounding suspicious as he glanced at Hermione's face. "I'm busy…school...stuff." he said, holding up a book.

Riddle's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. Hermione was very conscious of the fact that his yew wand was hanging limply in his hand at his side. Her hand curled around her vine wand, looking over to see Harry subtly doing the same thing.

She wasn't sure what Riddle could say to get around this without looking completely obvious, but she knew he was thinking. The slight crease in his brow was there – the one that was always on his emotionless face when he was thinking or reading.

He glanced around the library subtly, but Hermione noticed and clenched her wand tightly, ready to defend herself.

"Very well then," he said smoothly, shocking her. "good day Evans – Granger." his eyes setting on her as they swirled with darkness.

"Thanks, good day." Harry answered, but Hermione said nothing, continuing to stare at him suspiciously.

He turned his heel and left the library.

"Tell me what's going on, now." Harry instantly said when he was gone, his expression looking serious.

Hermione nodded towards the door, shaking her head. She didn't think he had super sonic hearing, but she wasn't about to risk him overhearing. They couldn't risk him hearing anything and they had to be very careful.

Harry gave her a "are you serious?" expression, looking behind her skeptically.

He shook his head, looking down at his book, but she could tell that he wasn't absorbing a single word. Not that she could blame him, she couldn't either.

"There you are!"

Hermione turned, looking surprised when she saw Alphard Black come around the corner, smiling widely at them. Had Riddle been serious? Was he really just telling Harry – no, she wasn't wrong. Riddle wasn't anyone's messenger—he had other motives, she was positive of that and she didn't need to doubt herself.

"Hello beautiful," Alphard winked at her, making her flush. "did you miss me? I missed you-"

"Seriously Black," Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes. "can't you leave her be?"

"What?" Black said, looking affronted. "I'm a complete gentleman-"

"What did you need?" Harry asked, barely stopping himself from smiling in amusement. It was easy to do with Alphard Black. He was the regular class clown.

"Nothing really," Black shrugged, sitting down. "I just wanted to talk to you when I found out you weren't going today."

"About what?" Harry asked, looking at him curiously.

"Just in general mate," Black rolled his eyes. "I need a reason to want to chat with you now?"

"I suppose not..." Harry trailed off, looking suspicious.

She looked down at her book, seeing she was at the end. She closed it, standing and started to go get a new one. Harry immediately stood and Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not leaving the library," she laughed, "I'm just getting another book."

Harry nodded his head, sitting down slowly and giving her a look that said, "do not leave this library."

She smiled, walking away and staying close by, walking around the nearby isles. Most she had already read, as they were there in her time. For the most part, it was all outdated books, which she knew to have information that had been updated in her time.

"Hmm..." she tapped her foot, thinking a muggle song she'd heard back home stuck in her head. She browsed the shelves, singing the song in her head.

"You and me, we used to be together, everyday together..always..." she sang very lowly, frowning as she repeatedly outdated texts. "It looks as though you're letting go,  
and if it's real, well I don't want to know." she hummed lightly, picking up an advanced potions book, frowning when she saw instructions that she knew was more complicated than how you did it in the future. She sighed dramatically and forcefully put it back on the shelf, the corner of her eye drifting over to the restricted section. It was near and she could still keep an eye on Harry and Black if she just...she frowned – no, she should just wait.

"Don't speak I know just what you're saying, so please stop explaining, don't tell me cause it hurts..." she said lowly, getting down on her knees to look at the bottom shelf.

She froze when she felt the unmistakable feeling of a wand being jabbed in her neck.

"It couldn't possibly hurt already." a cold voice said lowly, mockingly. 

"Wand, now..." he hissed as she slowly stood, gripping her wand tightly as she panicked, considering her options. His wand was jabbed in her neck, she could take her chances and turn on him, trying to curse him before he could her, but it wasn't likely. More than anything, she couldn't figure out how he'd reentered the library without her _noticing_ , or that he snuck up on her...she knew her level of awareness was pretty good, so _how_ did he-

"I won't repeat myself." he hissed in a cold voice.

 _Not bloody likely,_ she thought to herself, getting ready to shoot a bombarda on the bookshelf. If she wasn't in the right position to attack him, didn't mean she couldn't attack things around them.

A split second had passed and another until she started to speak the spell, but it seemed to be a half a second too late. She instantly felt her mind go blissfully blank. She slowly turned around, looking into the face of the most handsome man she'd _ever_ seen. A slow smile curled on her dreamy face as she gazed at him. Everything was alright, all she had to was follow him and she'd be okay.

 _Why would you do that?_

She frowned, her steps towards him halting and making him turn to look at her. A surprised looked flashed across his handsome face. Suddenly, she felt the urge to follow him much more urgently. It would be alright, the voice said so—no, it _wouldn't_ be alright—but it _would_ be, the handsome boy wouldn't hurt her— _what if he did_?

Her face was scrunched as she swayed back and forth, in between beginning to follow and backing away.

She heard a hiss of frustration and felt the overwhelming need to move forward, so she did. But she stopped multiple times, her mind going through the same turmoil. At one point, she even started backing away from him. She desperately tried to wonder where the handsome boy was taking her, but every time the thought came forward, it was shoved down as he led her down corridors and through a door.

Feeling the strong urge to sit, she did so, only hesitating momentarily. She put her hands behind her after another moment of mild hesitation.

Almost as if a fog cleared, her mind was back to normal. Panic soured through her system as she saw herself in what appeared to be some older classroom, where she was currently bound to a chair by ropes. Her eyes narrowed in front of her, seeing Tom Riddle's tall, lean frame leaning back against some desk. His legs and arms were crossed and he was tapping his yew wand against his upper arm as he stared at her in silence.

"What are you doing?" she asked tersely, being somewhat proud of herself at how steady her voice sounded. Though she didn't feel steady—if the ropes weren't binding her, she knew she'd be shaking. Gryffindor or not, she wasn't a fool. Only a complete idiot wouldn't be afraid of him, especially if you knew _what_ he was – _what_ – not _who_. Surely, Harry was tearing apart the castle at this point.

He didn't answer, he just looked at her for moments, as though he was contemplating something. Staring into his expressionless, handsome face was starting to become disturbing. She tried not to think about the fact that within a week, she'd gotten herself tied to a chair by young Voldemort. Clearly, she was doing something wrong. Okay, she shouldn't have mouthed off at him, she knew that. But, she had a bit of history of being hot-headed. She'd subconsciously separated Voldemort from Tom Riddle—feeling safer in a classroom setting. She knew she mouthed off to him, but was she _seriously_ the first one? In seven years, not one person mouthed him? Not a single person got tired of his controlling, superior attitude? She doubted that...unless he did this to everyone that disrespected him?

"Its very annoying to cast an Inperius on such a reluctant mind," he mused quietly. "you have surprising resistance to it – I find myself... _impressed_."

Her heart jumped uncomfortably in her chest, she didn't want _him_ to be impressed by her. Though he was a great wizard, _magically_ , she had no desire to impress him. Now, if she impressed Dumbledore, she would have been filled with pride. But _him_? A certain disgust flowed through her veins, making her feel sick at her stomach.

Disgust must have shown on her face, because he raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"What do you believe will happen now?" he asked in a quiet, curious voice.

Not that she wanted to give him ideas, but… "Probably torture for mouthing off at you." she bit her lip after she finished speaking, to keep him from seeing it tremble.

He smirked very briefly, pushing himself off the desk and began pacing with his hands behind him back.

"Normally, I would say you were correct..." he mused coldly, looking up towards the ceiling and looking coldly thoughtful. "but, you don't want to experience _my_ cruciatus—intelligent minds are so hard to find, I wouldn't want to waste yours at the risk of breaking it."

She didn't like the sound of that. Did he really believe his cruciatus was THAT powerful? But, did she have pudding in her ears? She shook her head disbelievingly—did he seriously just say he wouldn't torture her because of her _mind_? She didn't know how to respond, so she kept quiet, pursing her lips and picking at the bonds that tied her hands together.

"I've noticed your watchful eyes," he commented, making her pause as he looking over at her darkly. "at first, of course, I took it as you being another air-headed girl that was hopelessly and annoyingly infatuated with me, but now...I'm not so sure." he tilted his regal head questioningly.

Her stomach dropped. _No_ , she didn't need him to know... _anything_ different. He couldn't know that she was trying to memorize his routines—his actions. She wanted to cry when she realized what she had to do.

"Why not?" she asked, internally cringing. "because...that's what it is." she finished lamely, her face on fire and looking anywhere but him.

He was quiet, and she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her.

"You're lying."

Her head snapped to him, her eyes widening in alarm. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth set in a firm line.

"N-no, I'm not!" she protested without much conviction. "I think you're – you're...really-"

"Stop." he instantly ordered, making her mouth snap shut.

In the next moment, he was directly in front of her, leaning down. Alarmed, she pulled her head back as far as the chair would allow, flinching and looking down, gritting her teeth. In the next moment, she felt his wand tip against her chin, making her flinch again.

"Look at me." he hissed, jerking his wand upwards, making her head and eyes lift to him.

His handsome face was close to hers and for the briefest of moments, her hormones caught up with her and she felt a somewhat dream-like quality enter her gaze. But, it only lasted for moments before her vision cleared, a feeling of disgust entering her veins.

She gasped loudly, moaning in pain when she felt him wordlessly and powerfully charge into her mind. Her whole form trembled at the sheer _power_ of it. She'd practiced with Harry and Ron, but nothing could have prepared her for _this._ This was a whole new caliber—this was _inhuman._ Regardless, she desperately tried to throw up her shields, in vain. No normal person could be this much of a master of Legilimency at such a young age—normally, it would be impossible. He shoved into her mind with such a brutal force, she felt as though he would pass out.

Harry was right. There was something deeply _wrong_ —and deeply _different_ with him.

In a last ditch effort, she started focusing on memories that were less dangerous for him to see. He viewed her laughing with Harry and Ron, running around the Weasley's house, shuffling through memories with her mum and dad when she was little—her mom picking up the bushy-haired girl and laughing hysterically. All memories were silent in words, outside of laughter, lest he hear all the apparent British accents. She may be unable to stop him from entering her mind, but she'd do everything in her power to control what he _did_ see.

He violently pulled from her mind, making her gasp and moan in pain again, her head dropping heavily and breathing heavily as she slightly perspired.

 _Merlin, help me,_ she thought, her head pounding as she moaned in pain.

She violently flinched when she felt his wand tip under her chin again, pulling her head up to look at him. She gritted her teeth in pain, glaring hatefully at his blank face. An unsure expression flashed across his face as warm waves suddenly traveled down her body, taking a little of her pain away with each passing wave until it was gone. Her eyes widened in shock – what spell – there was _no_ spell that did such a thing! A headache from having your mind entered _could not_ be cured by magic! A pain relief potion could dull the throbbing, but the ache would still be there. But, that didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact he bothered to do the unknown spell in the first place. _Why_ would he stop her pain? Didn't Voldemort revel in pain—the closest thing to love he'd ever known?

Her face kept flashing between astonishment and confusion as he pulled away, removing his wand.

"Clever witch." he said quietly and coldly, as a look flashed across his eyes...and she recognized it. She'd only ever seen that look once before. It was a look he strictly only ever gave Professor Merrythought. It was a mixture of pride, respect and she gulped... _greed_. He wanted her job, but she wasn't sure what he wanted from her. Surely he suspected she was muggleborn? Actually, the fact that he hadn't even brought up her blood status was amazing to her.

"What do you want from me?" she blurted, unable to stop herself. She wasn't use to being confused by events, but she was highly confused by his behavior and a little more than disturbed.

"Who said I wanted anything from you?" he commented, raising an elegant eyebrow.

Her mouth twitched.

"You watch me because you fear me," he said, ignoring her question as her heart punched her rib cage. "while you are right to do so, it is _somewhat_ unjustified. People who do not know me only ever stare at me because they are jealous, admire my talents or like the way I look..." he trailed off, his eyes flashing. "those that do know me—of course, fear me. The last thing they want to do is stare—they'd much prefer to pretend I don't exist—as they will not risk angering me. Its much safer for them in that way..." he began pacing, tilting his head upwards. The candle light shone across his chiseled face, making him look hauntingly beautiful. "you fall in none of those categories."

He was right and she didn't know what to say. Of course, anyone that knew to fear him would not be looking at him, they would avoid him like the plague. In the future, even his own followers avoided him. They did nothing to bring on his anger. So by default, her behavior didn't really make sense...he was very clever—more so than anyone she'd ever met. She stared to feel as though if she so much breathed in his direction, he could derive something from it; and that thought was highly disturbing.

"Why can't it be both?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "maybe I'm just weird."

He looked over at her sharply, making her pull her head back again. His face twitched lightly, as his eyes flicked down her form. She shifted as much as the binds would allow as his dark gaze tilted back up towards her face. If she were to be completely honest, the young Dark Lord was absolutely nothing like she thought he would be. It wasn't a _good_ thing by any stretch of the imagination—he was still a cold, control freak that was clearly evil. But it wasn't _as bad_ as she had originally thought. This young Dark Lord had—dare she say it—more control than his older self? Or was that false? Then again, she didn't really know how much self-control his older counterpart had… she'd just always pictured him as a deranged maniac, running around screaming killing and torture curses. Perhaps nothing was different, perhaps only her assumption was wrong. Not that Hermione liked to think she was wrong.

"You are weird," he commented, making her eyes narrow. "but to be completely frank, that has little to do with with I'm trying to figure out."

She stared, biting her lip and resisting the urge to childish urge to yell out, 'YOU'RE WEIRD!' what did he get off telling other people they were weird? He needed some serious fucking self clarification. But, no doubt he'd use the word. 'special' not 'weird' to describe himself.

"Don't even get me started on your little boyfriend," he hissed, turning his body to look at her as she froze. "his behavior is annoying more than anything. Though unlike you, he is respectful."

"Its my fault!" she blurted, making him raise an eyebrow. "I – I told him you were...to be feared and he believes everything I say..." she paused. "and he's not my boyfriend." she added for good measure.

"Does he know that?" he raised his eyebrow, his eyes looked briefly amused, but he didn't seem to want an answer as he continued. "I suppose that's not implausible..." he admitted, looking suspicious. "he _does_ seem to hang on your every word, as though it was the word of Merlin."

"He trusts me." he pursed her lips.

"I don't care," he said smoothly. "he doesn't concern me—he was brief mention, nothing more or less. His intelligence and skill is average—at best—he is of _no_ consequence and quite useless."

She had a strong urge to defend Harry, but she knew better. What was she supposed to do? Object and _boast_ about Harry's skill and intelligence? On the off chance the young Dark Lord actually _believed_ her, he would set his sights on Harry...and that was the last thing she needed to happen. If it was between them and the Dark Lord needed to be suspicious of someone, it needed to be her. Not Harry. _Never_ Harry. He was too important to risk.

"Are we just going to chit-chat all day?" she snapped, anger burning deeply inside her. "you violated my mind and such, isn't that enough for one day?"

His eyes flashed in anger, and before she knew it, he was standing upon her. Her hair was suddenly invaded by long fingers as he gripped his harshly, yanking her head back roughly as she gasped painfully. He jabbed his yew wand into her cheek and as she looked at his face—seeing pure evil stare back at her, she wanted to scream in fright.

"Never question my actions," he hissed, pressing his wand more forcefully into her cheek. "just because you hold _some_ intelligence—it will _not_ save you from me," his lip curled, and her eyes widened as she swore she saw a black shadow pass across the whites of his eyes. "watch your tongue, or I'll cut it out." he finished, making her yelp in horror. In all honesty, it was a combination between his threat and the black across the whites— _what_...what in the name of Merlin _was_ that? She didn't know, but it seemed this whole thing wasn't a complete waste. She had something more to go on...she could research what could possibly turn your eyes black AND briefly your veins. Perhaps they could find some kind of weakness…

She looked bravely into his cold face, blinking and saying nothing. If she wasn't so frightened deep down, she may have even stuck her tongue out at him. But, knowing who he was, she wouldn't be surprised if he _literally_ did cut her tongue out.

His dark eyes flicked over her face for moments, before her relinquished his hold on her hair, backing away. He waved his wand and she flinched, scrunching her eyes. But she was shocked when she felt her binds disappear. She pulled her arms in front of her, rubbing her sore wrists as she looked at him with a confused expression.


	4. Chapter Four: How

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback everyone! I now have two requests to finish my other stories! I'm try to brainstorm about them, and I seriously wish I could get back into my other account. Maybe I'll try again, for the millionth time.**

 **Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: How**

 _ **How could you question God's existence  
when you question God himself?  
Why would you ask for God's assistance  
if you wouldn't take the help?**_

 _ **If you're gone, then I need you**_  
 _ **If you're gone, then how is any of this real?**_  
 _ **When I'm on, I believe you**_  
 _ **When I'm not, my knees don't even seem to feel**_

She stood hesitantly, her hand twitching towards her wand in her pocket. If he wasn't going to attack her, she wasn't _about_ to attack him. She couldn't help Harry if she ended up all dead. _Not_ that she didn't have faith in her dueling abilities. She was good—hell, she was _more_ than good. But only a fool would underestimate Lord Voldemort. Did this mean she could leave? She was about to speak when he finally spoke.

"I'll find you again when I wish to speak with you." he said in a commanding voice, making Hermione's blood boil.

"I don't want to talk to you!" she spat before she could control herself. She instantly regretted her decision when the same blackness flashed across the whites of his eyes and Hermione raised her wand, jumping backwards with wide eyes. The fact that she had drawn her wand seemed to anger him further, the darkness returning to his eyes. She stared, was he aware that she could see that?

A spell shot powerfully from his wand, but she was expecting it. She met it instantly, swiping her wand to the side and causing the spell to crash into the wall.

Surprise shot across his face, before his face filled with rage unlike she'd seen before.

Her eyes widened in horror when the whites of his eyes turned black, the entire eyeball like pools of ink. His teeth gritted, and she watched in horror as black veins climbed up his neck, much like they had his wrist. There almost seemed to be a blackness glowing _around_ him, and he looked like...like some sort of evil, _dark prince_. The veins climbed and receded, as though they were following the beat of his heart. It contrasted very dramatically with his pale skin. His lip curled, and she saw that his perfect teeth...his canines were _elongated_.

 _What...what the...!_ Was all she could think, shaking her head, attempting to clear it. She would have thought he was a vampire, but _this_ was _not_ anything like vampire stuff. This was almost... _otherworldly_. She had the instant, sinking feeling that he wasn't human. This _wasn't human_. In that moment, she felt so in over her head, it already felt like she was drowning. Her wand was shaking badly now. Normally, she would logically try to come up with the best solution, or answer...but what the hell was she supposed to make of _this_? She didn't even know where to begin, there was nothing to begin with! What— _what_ kind of devilry was this? What—what was _he_?

He raised his hand, and she noticed with a start that it had the pulsing veins as well. Panicked, she sent a body binding spell at him on instinct, only to have her mouth drop open in shock when he didn't raise his wand, but the spell instantly rebounded on her, making her hit the floor in shock as it zoomed over her head. She didn't know what to do—how to react. She had not idea what she was up against. The only thing she knew to do was defend herself in the only way she knew how.

She shot several spells in quick succession, though she knew her precision was almost flawless, none of them hit their mark. They bounced off him as though she was throwing a bouncy ball at a wall.

He closed his fist on his outstretched hand, and her wand instantly was powerfully ripped out of her hand.

To say she was panicked would have been the understatement of the year. Despite everything, she had a serious urge to do something she hadn't done in years—get on her knees and start praying to GOD to protect her, because this struck her as some otherworldly type of evil...

He waved his hand, and she was flung to the ground with a screech. Her arms instantly shot over her head, pinned with an invisible force along with her feet. Never had she felt such fear as she struggled, hyperventilating as he seemed to glide towards her, his black eyes staring at her as the veins seemed to pulse up his neck.

She could feel death tickling her skin. Somehow, she just knew that she was about to die. He was going to kill her— _It_ was going to kill her. Why—why was this happening? She felt tears threaten to escape her eyes at feeling so doomed and powerless, but she refused to cry in front of him as she hopelessly struggled against the bonds.

She wanted to live.

"I'M SORRY!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as he leaned down next to her, observing her in an evil fashion.

"Are you?" he asked quietly, his voice deeper than it had been. "or do you simply want to avoid harm?"

His voice...it was almost like a drug, seeping into her skin and making her still as her eyes widened. What— _what_ …

"Y-yes..." she choked out through gritted teeth, angry when a tear leaked from her eye. His black eyes followed it as he reached out a long fingered hand. He gently touched his cool fingers to her cheek, making her gasp out in shock. A pulse traveled from his finger tips into her cheek and down her body, relaxing her muscles. He swiped the tear away and fully cupped her cheek.

She stared up at him with confused and frightened eyes. He abruptly pulled his hand away, staring at it. She looked too, surprised to see his hand that he had touched her with was glowing with the purest white light she'd _ever_ seen. It was _beautiful_ , and she felt herself start to relax more as she stared at him, her eyelids growing heavy as a peaceful trance came over her body.

"I see..." he said deeply, and quietly to himself. His eyes locked on hers, the veins protruding from his jaw in a less aggressive fashion. He closed his eyes, as she lazily watched the light in his hand sink into his palm, lighting up more black veins that weren't visible to the naked eye. His eyes snapped open and he let out an almost feral hiss, alarming her hazy mind as she barely processed the hungry look in his black eyes.

In the next moment, both his cold hands were on each of her cheeks. Her skin somehow burned from his cool touch, as pulses traveled down her body, pulling at—at something. She didn't know what, but part of her didn't even care. It almost felt... _good_. Whatever it was that he was doing. Though she could feel it somehow draining her. She didn't know if it was only draining her energy or what, but it was _pulling_ and _pulsing_ , as though it was coming from the very... _core_ of her body—wherever that core happened to be, not even being able to tell. She looked up at him with half-hooded eyes, seeing his eyes flutter close and his chiseled jaw go slack for moments before snapping closed and tensing, the black veins throbbing more aggressively. It felt intimate, way too intimate. But she couldn't bring herself to care in this moment and she looked at the tense, yet blissful look on his sculpted face.

A particularly sharp pulse traveled down her body, pulling at her and she couldn't stop herself when her eyes closed, her back slightly arched as a moan came from her trembling lips. If she'd been in her right mind, she would have been embarrassed. But, she couldn't help herself. She had _no idea_ what was going on, but it felt good just as much as it felt... _weird_. It was a completely new sensation, one she was sure most people never felt in their lives and she had no idea how to even begin to stop it.

She heard an almost feral hiss come from him and in the next moment, it was gone. All the feelings, the sensation...it was gone. On instinct, she whimpered at the loss, because whatever he was doing, he wasn't _done yet_. At least, she didn't think so. But then again, she could always be wrong—she probably was.

He seemed as though he was far away, breathing heavily as she fought to remain conscious. She fought and fought, but in the end, she lost and slipped easily into unconsciousness.

((O))

Hermione moaned, her eyes fluttering rapidly as she woke up, blinking forcefully and looking around.

She was in her dorm, and she saw Beatrice snoring away across the room from her. Blinking rapidly, the events of the day came crashing down on her as she began to panic.

 _Harry...I need Harry!_ She thought in a panicked inner voice, stumbling out of bed to see that she was still in her gray sweater and pencil skirt from earlier that day. Unfortunately, she knew there was no way to get to get to Harry tonight, not while they were still in different houses. She began pacing back and forth, running her hands through her unruly hair and trying to desperately think. How could she even begin to make sense of what had happened between her and Riddle?

She had a moment of wondering if it actually had happened, or if it was just some kind of...weird dream. But she knew that she didn't have that much of an imagination, and even if she did, she'd pick something that didn't involve the young Dark Lord.

Never in her life had her mind been so blank. What was she even supposed to think? Nothing could have prepared her for something of this magnitude. Of course, she said multiple times that the Dark Lord was inhuman, and he was...but, this was something else entirely. She hadn't meant it quite this literally. She had always meant it that he was a distorted human being, but on the basic level, born and human being and was one.

But...he wasn't human, was he? At least, not completely. Then again, she wasn't exactly well versed in the Dark arts...were there actual Dark rituals that could do things like that? There was nothing she could do something...surely, if there were rituals or spells in existence that could make you _that_ powerful, they would see many people that way, right? It didn't make sense...the only thing that came to mind was he was either born with it...or something just happened to him? This fit in oddly with his future self as well. Either she was insane—she probably was at this point—but he seemed... _more powerful_ now than he was in the future, and that itself was a completely terrifying thought. What had happened?

She gripped her hair, nothing made sense.

She stumbled in the restroom, closing the door. She quickly shed her clothes, rubbing her arms tiredly as she looked in the mirror. Her eyes widened in fright and she slammed her hands over her mouth to muffle her shriek.

There, on her hip, stretching around her stomach were the black veins. Except they were different than his...they were lighter? On closer inspection, she could see they weren't veins at all. It was almost as if someone had drawn lines across her stomach with ink. She stuck her finger in her mouth and rubbed the area, just for good measure. The marks remained.

What had he done to her? Had he infected her with something – something evil? Her stomach turned and she ran to the toilet, throwing up in the bowl as she breathed heavily, her nerves shattered. Was something slowly poisoning her? She grabbed her wand off the counter, shakily standing and pointing her wand to the black vine-like lines.

" _Arespagio"_ she said quietly and hopefully, using the basic healing spell that's meant to rid you of minor dark magic. Though she knew this was far from minor, she hoped it would at least lighten them, getting rid of a little bit of it at least. She frowned when she saw nothing had changed.

She started casting various healing diagnosis spells on her. Time past on as she continued casting diagnosis spells and by the time she was done, she found out she was essentially perfectly healthy. Well, she had a small cyst on her left ovary, but she highly doubted that was related to Tom Riddle. Whatever he had done, it hadn't affected her health, at least not in a way that diagnosis spells could identify.

She didn't trust it. She had half a mind to run to Dumbledore, waving her arms and crying hysterically about it...or maybe even the hospital wing. But Riddle was...too much. What if Dumbledore confronted him? Which he likely would...Riddle had inhuman power. She didn't know if it was temporary or what, but she didn't want anyone going against _that_...not even Dumbledore.

How seriously _screwed_ were they? And if he had _this_ kind of power, how come no one had seen this shit? It was kind of obvious as fuck, or had he learned to control it with age? But even so, if he had little control, how come no one at Hogwarts never saw this?

She remembered that he was always alone. Was...was _this_ why? His temper was so delicate, that he would reveal himself as a...a whatever the hell he was? He certainly _never_ associated with people for very long. But, he had implied that he'd tortured people before, perhaps those poor souls—whoever they were—also knew about this weird, darkness thing?

"Black!" Hermione hissed, thinking is was highly probable. She now knew that when his plan hadn't worked, he'd sent Black into the library to distract Harry. He had shown that he was afraid of Riddle…

" _Those that know me, fear me..."_

Yes, Black knew _something_. What all he knew, Hermione didn't know. But, she intended to do everything in her power to find out. It wouldn't be easy to get him to talk about Riddle, but perhaps he would if he really did have a crush on her...but, perhaps that was fake. She wouldn't be surprised if it was.

She looked in the mirror, observing her lighter, wild hair. She tried not to think about how she got back in the Ravenclaw dorm. The thought of Tom Riddle carrying her or something similar—made her want to throw up all over again. Feeling disgusted, she jumped in the shower, heavily washing herself with the strongest smelling products that was there—which happened to be strawberry.

As she lathered her hair, she allowed the feelings she'd been repressing. How she'd felt when he...did whatever it was he did. She felt guilty that she had liked it, but reminded herself that he had probably forced her to like it. It wasn't any fault of her own – at least, that's what she told herself.

As she finished up, she touched her magically dried hair, seeing it was decently more smooth than normal. She would have to start using that shampoo more often if it made it easier to brush.

She got dressed, seeing the sun was out.

All she could think about was getting to Harry, but it was Sunday...wouldn't he sleep in? No, he wouldn't...he was probably worried to death. Actually he may already be outside the Ravenclaw dorm, or in the common room…

She pelt down the stairs, seeing an empty common room.

"Harry?" she called out, seeing no one with a frown as she walked out of the dorm, not seeing him wait for her either. She walked down the stairs, debating going to the stand near the Slytherin common room, and she would have, but she was too afraid that she'd see...him.

She was NOT about to put herself in a position to be alone with him again. Now that she knew if he did...whatever it was that he did, she couldn't even duel him. She felt like a muggle against a wizard, and that thought deeply unsettled her.

She lingered in the hallways, biting her lip as she headed towards the great hall. Even if he was there, at least there would be other students. If Harry wasn't in the great hall, he would be eventually and she'd just wait.

Hesitantly, she walked around the corner into the great hall, not wanting to look at the Slytherin table.

Her eyes reluctantly trailed over there as she walked to the Ravenclaw table, seeing a few students here and there, none of them being Harry.

In another instant, her eyes met his intense stare. Her eyes widened and she stumbled slightly, seeing his eyes glued to her form. She instantly looked away, taking a deep intake of breath as her hands trembled. Biting her lip, she went as far down the Ravenclaw table as it would allow, needing to put as much distance between them as possible.

Shakily sitting down, she poured herself some pumpkin juice, drinking quickly and sitting it down before she dropped it from her nerves. She looked down, letting her hair fall as a curtain, hiding her face from his intense stare she could still feel. Of course, she could feel his stare before, but now, she seemed to be hyper aware of it. She frowned, but rationalized that it made sense. Of course she would be after what happened. She unconsciously scratched her abdomen and hip, shifting in her seat, aware that his eyes were watching her every action.

Her pulse was up and she could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage. She took a deep breath, trying to quell the anxiety in her stomach. She shakily tried to scoop some eggs and bacon in her plate normally, but she was sure there was nothing normal about her trembling hand as she spilled eggs on the table repeatedly.

Setting down her spoon, she put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples and willing herself to calm down. He couldn't bother her in here, she just needed to talk to Harry. She didn't know what they could possibly do, and even though it was likely he couldn't protect her, she'd still feel better. Her mind wandered to Ron and she frowned. How could she tell the red head what had happened? He was so protective of her and Harry, what if he openly attacked Riddle? She recalled how he cursed Malfoy and cringed. This was _much_ worse, and she didn't trust the temperamental redhead not to act. She hated keeping things from him, and she honestly never thought she would...but this was serious and it was for the best. She was sure Harry would agree.

She sighed, lifting her face to see Harry walking down the Slytherin table. Her heart lurched and she made a move to get up and run to him, before remembering that...he was watching. She stilled in her seat, biting her lip as she stared at Harry. He felt her stare, looking over at her and giving her a warm smile.

"…"

What? Didn't he – why wasn't he coming up to her? Why was he smiling? After yesterday? She had just disappeared! Wasn't he worried about what happened to her?

She gave him a shocked and slightly hurt expression, and Harry's eyebrows raised, his smile falling and his face forming a worried and confused expression.

Her eyes darted over to Riddle, who was looking at her over his goblet. His raised one eyebrow in an amused way, sitting his goblet down as he actually _smirked_ at her. Her eyes darted back and forth between Harry and him. Her expression clicked in realization and anger.

He'd _done_ something to Harry.

He knew that he was a problem, she'd vanished and he had knew Harry was suspicious of him. But what did he do? Memory charm—no doubt and placing a false memory in Harry's head. It was complex magic, but she knew before she even came here that he was capable of such a thing.

Hate and anger filled her as she clenched her fists and looked over at him with repulsion. He looked at her blankly, her hate-filled glare clearly having no effect on him. God's she _hated_ him. How _dare_ he do anything to Harry. If he had an issue, he needed to take it up with her and leave him the hell out of it. She wanted to scream in frustration when it implied that he didn't want him to know what had happened. If she told Harry, he'd believe her, she was sure of it...BUT, Riddle may do something again and this time, it may be worse...and she couldn't stop him.

She couldn't. She knew she couldn't. He'd successfully alienated her – making her unable to talk to her friends about what was happening...and there was nothing she could do about it.

For now.

She drank the last of her pumpkin juice and slammed the goblet on the table before standing up sharply and storming out of the great hall angrily. A few 1st year Ravenclaws gave her a frightened look and she felt slightly guilty, taking a deep breath and willing herself to calm down slightly.

She entered the library with determination, making a mental note to sneak back in later and enter the restricted section.

Cursing under her breath, she stalked the isles, picking up books here and there. She had to figure out what was going on – and fast. Putting about eight books on a table, she sat down, grabbing a book titled, _"Creatures of the Dark."_ and began reading determinedly.

She sat there for a while, his eyebrows furrowed as she read useless information about some dark creature that made everyone around it think their family was dead.

Yes, that was horrible, but seriously? That was so utterly tame compared to what she was looking for.

She had a strong urge to chunk the book across the library.

"Hermione?"

Her eyes widened, turning to see Harry approaching her and sitting down with a worried expression.

"You looked hurt at breakfast...so I followed you," he said quietly, "are you ok?"

 _No._

She somehow forced a smile on her face. "Yes, I'm just not feeling well."

"I see..." Harry trailed off. "are you sure?"

"Yeah, you know..." she cleared her throat. "after yesterday and all."

"Yeah, I was convinced Riddle was up to something," he said quietly, looking around. "I think I'm overly paranoid when it comes to him."

Hermione had the horrifying thought that Riddle had possibly looked into his mind while removing and adding, but seeing as they were still alive, it seemed not to be the case. It seemed Tom Riddle didn't do things without reason, and apparently, didn't deem it important to rip through Harry's "useless" mind. She was right yesterday not to correct Riddle. If she had, he might have had an inkling to do so while he was at it.

"No, I don't think so..." Hermione trailed off bitterly. He had no idea.

"Yeah, you're right," he scratched his head, looking worried. "can't ever be too careful. I'm just glad I was wrong yesterday."

"Indeed..." Hermione answered almost bitterly. She longed to ask what he thought happened yesterday, but she wasn't sure how to do so without sounding suspicious. Harry seemed perfectly fine, she could tell that from the great hall, but she was still angry. Just because he was fine now, it didn't mean he hadn't done anything else to Harry. Though, he hadn't tortured her and she had mouthed off to him. He said Harry was respectful, so it was probably unlikely that he had done anything to him in that sense. She wanted to question Riddle, but that would involve being alone with him. She did not want a repeat performance of what had happened.

 _Even if you did enjoy it?_ She cringed at her own voice in her head. He had done something to her, it wasn't her fault. If she had a choice, or was asked to do it again, it would be a resounding _no._

she unconsciously began to rub her stomach and hip.

"Do you have a stomach ache?"

"Hunh?" Hermione asked at Harry's voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

"You stomach," he nodded downwards to her hand. "you keep rubbing your stomach and side – does it hurt?"

She made a face, pulling her hand away from her stomach and shook her head.

"I'm just...itchy," she muttered. "its the wool or something..." she trailed off uncomfortably clearing her throat.

"Oh..." Harry gave her a funny look, a suspicious look passing through his eyes.

He was way too observant for his own good. She sighed, setting her book down and did a double take at the corner of the table and raising her eyebrows. Was that there before? She hesitated and reached for it, slowly opening it as her eyes landed on elegant script.

 _It will not harm you._

That was it – that was all it said. Her eyes narrowed. It was from him...surely, it had to be? And he had to be referring to the black lines on her body...it was the only thing that made sense.

She crumbled the note in her fist, gritting her teeth. Yeah, right...like she'd ever believe anything that came out of his evil mouth. A small, small part of her wished he'd just obliviate her, that way she wouldn't have to remember that she liked something the Dark Lord did—something she didn't even know. Something that could be hurting her right this instance, and she wondered why he hadn't.

She knew she hadn't seen the last of him and she desperately needed to find some answers before she had another little 'meeting' with him. She'd never felt more alone, but she was brave enough to do what she needed to.

"Are you looking for something?" Harry asked, looking around all the books.

She paused for a moment. "Yes, remember the vein, dark thing?" she asked quietly, watching Harry nod. "I thought maybe I'd try to find something on it..."

"Good idea..." he nodded, picking up a book and opening it, side glancing worriedly at Hermione, who cleared her throat and pulled on the neck of her blue turtleneck.

They sat in silence for a while, Hermione getting more and more frustrated at the lack of information. She couldn't find anything that talked about the type of things he did – not even close. She didn't want to revert to plan B, but perhaps she could mingle it into plan A.

"Er – Harry..." she said hesitantly. "have – have you seen Black around?"

He looked sharply at her, confused expression on his face.

"Why?" he asked bluntly, not answering her question.

"He...amuses me." she said simply, making him raise an eyebrow.

"He _amuses_ you?" he asked disbelievingly. "what so amusing about Black?"

"Well...he's funny," she answered in a high pitched voice. "just thought he'd be fun to have around..."

"He'll probably pop in here eventually..." Harry said, still sounding suspicious and displeased. "for someone who acts so stupid, he's actually really smart and studies."

She bit her lip, nodding as she prepared to attempt to use the woman wiles she knew she didn't even posses. It would probably be a complete disaster, but she was desperate and she _knew_ he knew _something_.

All she had to do was wait for him to show.


	5. Chapter Five: Half God, Half Devil

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews everyone! Reviews really help motivate me. You guys are the best!**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Half God, Half Devil **

_**I waged war in a fiery blaze**_  
 _ **I found peace in a purple haze**_  
 _ **My angels and my demons**_  
 _ **They don't know their place**_  
 _ **Ready or not, they're gonna come out and play**_

 _ **I can be your heavenly or I can be your hell**_  
 _ **I can say a prayer for you or I can cast a spell**_  
 _ **I push you to the darkness just to pull you to the light**_  
 _ **Cause I can take away your breath or I can bring you back to life**_  
 _ **Half God, half Devil**_

* * *

Hermione waited for Black to show up in the library all day, as Harry said he would eventually show.

Well, he never did.

So, here she was, pulling her hair up into a ponytail on a Monday morning, trying not to act nervous about the fact that she once again, had double potions with the Slytherins. She knew she'd be partnered with Riddle, as Slughorn had yet to allow them to pick other partners.

Perhaps she could just ignore him? They'd be surrounded by students, it wasn't like he could do anything there.

She checked her stomach and side the moment she had woken up, only to frown in disappointment when she saw that the black lines were still there. They didn't hurt and she noticed nothing different about herself, yet they remained. If they did absolutely nothing, then what was their purpose? Why were they even there? Or worse...was it permanent? She tried to push it to the back of her mind. There was no point in stressing this much over it. It wouldn't do her any good, as she had a priority to figure out what the hell Riddle... _was_.

Nodding her head, she walked out of the bathroom to see Beatrice waiting for her. She eyed Hermione's high pony tail with a smirk.

"What?" Hermione asked, touching the pony tail.

"Oh, its not like that," Beatrice smiled, waving her hand. "its just with your curls, that pony tail looks totally cute."

Hermione shifted, touching the pony tail again. Did she really? In all honesty, she'd never really thought about herself looking cute... _ever_. She was too plain and simple to be...anything really. She supposed she wasn't ugly, but she was no beauty and she knew that.

"Er—thanks..." she trailed off uncomfortably, giving the girl a smile as they walked to breakfast together, meeting Jennifer in the common room along the way.

Hermione forced herself not to look over at the Slytherin table as she walked in the great hall, smiling with the two girls. She was so determined not to look, that she almost missed Jennifer saying her name.

"Bea agrees with me, ya know." Jennifer said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Hermione.

"Sorry—on what?" Hermione asked with a confused expression.

"That Tom Riddle totally likes you!" Jennifer exclaimed, making Hermione's face pale out and then turn bright red.

"She's blushing—complete crush." Beatrice nodded, smiling playfully. "come on, Hermione! You shouldn't be embarrassed, you should be _proud_. You've done what no other girl-"

"I haven't done anything, though!" Hermione protested, tucking a stray hair behind her ear uncomfortably.

"But you have!" Jennifer agreed with Beatrice, being persistent. "you just don't know. He's never looked at a girl the way he looks at you. Its a huge deal. you've got his attention."

"It may not be good attention." she commented dryly, picking up some juice bitterly. It definitely wasn't _good_ attention. But, Hermione knew that even if she did tell the two girls the truth about Tom Riddle, she'd doubt they'd ever believe her. They thought he was the personification of perfect. He seriously had _so many_ people duped. She ate her breakfast in mostly silence, her face twitching irritably whenever either would bring up the "perfect" Tom Riddle to her. They told her he kept looking at her, but she didn't need them to tell her that. She could feel his dark, intense gaze practically stabbing the side of her face. _Probably planning my demise..._ she thought bitterly. But in truth, she didn't really think that was the case. For Merlin's sake, she'd passed out in front of him, tied down and helpless. If he was going to kill her, he could have easily done it then. Clearly, he didn't want her dead...yet anyways.

The girls got up to go to class and she begrudgingly got up and followed, gnawing on her lip all the way to the dungeons.

Entering the potions classroom, she clutched her potion book to her chest until her hands turned pale white. She could see his _stupid_ perfect hair on the back of his _stupid_ head in the front. He was always in the classroom by the time she arrived, no matter how early she left. It was like he teleported there.

Her legs were shaking lightly as she stared at ground, refusing to accidentally make eye contact with him as she walked up to the desk. Feeling his stare, she quickly sat down, unpacking and folding her hands on top of the desk. _Hurry, hurry...Merlin, hurry up!_ She yelled in her head to Slughorn.

"Did you receive my note?"

Her shoulders tensed and she closed her eyes, hearing his smooth, elegant voice. So she was right, it _was_ from him. "Yes." she answered simply, looking around the room and trying to signal with her body language that the conversation was over. She was praying to Merlin he would shut up and start ignoring her like he had before. She couldn't deal with him right this second, she needed more time to research—to _think_. Just because yesterday's search landed her with a big nothing, didn't mean that she'd never find anything. She just needed more time.

"You have surprised me," he continued lowly as her face paled out. Of course, like he'd ever care she didn't want to talk to him. He regarded no one's feelings as he continued, "I thought for sure you'd come to me, asking questions."

Should she even answer? Maybe if she was quiet and boring, he'd shut up and get bored of her.

"It doesn't seem like your personality to just..." he paused. "let it go."

"How would _you_ know what my personality is like?" she snapped in spite of herself, looking over at him to see him leaning back in his chair, twirling a quill in his hand as he regarded her curiously with a bemused expression."do _not_ presume to tell me what I'm like—you don't know me and I don't know you, so lets keep it that way." He raised an amused brow, his handsome face giving her the smallest of smirks...as though she was the most amusing thing he'd seen in a long time.

"Hmm—that's where you're wrong," he said simply, quirking up his eyebrow. "I know more about your personality than you think." he finished, leaning up and moving his chair closer to the desk. He looked away from her, opening his potions book and looking down at it, but she could tell he wasn't reading it.

"…Whatever." she scoffed, trying to appear unaffected, but she couldn't help it when a surge of worry traveled through her. What was that supposed to mean? Did he really know something about her? From what had happened? Then again, she didn't know what happened, so she supposed it wasn't impossible that he somehow... _read_ her, was it—no... _no_ , she couldn't start having even more questions before she even had a single answer. She already felt overwhelmed.

"Good morning class!" Slughorn called, coming out of his office, making Hermione sigh in relief. She never thought she'd be happy to see Slughorn.

She bit her lip, listening to Slughorn talk about the potion they'd brew today. They were going to be brewing the Mopsus potion, which was supposed to give the drink seer-like powers. But that wasn't the interesting or the best part. The best part was they were working individually, so she could effectively, completely ignore him.

As they set up their cauldrons, she dug through her ingredients, frowning when she saw she was missing an essential one. She didn't have any flabbergasted leeches. Glancing over to Riddle, she saw he had an entire jar sitting next to his cauldron. _Not going to happen..._ she thought to herself. She wasn't anything him for a damn thing.

 _Ever._

Making up her mind, she left the desk, approaching Slughorn at his desk, who looked up with a fond look in his eye. "Excuse me Professor," she said quietly. "it seems I'm missing flabbergasted leeches..." she finished, turning slightly pink.

"Oh, I have plenty in the store in the back!" Slughorn waved off. "you can have one of those jars. Er – Tom!"

She froze as she felt Riddle quickly come up to the desk.

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you show Hermione my stores, get her a bottle of flabbergasted leeches?" he asked brightly.

"I'd be glad to, sir." Riddle answered quietly and smoothly, making her stomach drop. She knew where the bloody stores were. For God's sake, it was just in the back of the classroom! Even so, she was capable of _reading._ She could find it herself! But, Slughorn didn't know her well, perhaps he thought she'd take steal from him? She was snapped out of her thoughts by Riddle moving next to her, walking through the classroom and she hesitantly and reluctantly followed his tall form. She swallowed thickly as she weaved around cabinets behind him, her pulse spiking as she entered the large store room behind him. She stayed near the door, looking like a deer that just got stumbled upon...one wrong move, and she was out of there. He crossed his arms, calmly scanning the shelves, pausing near the back. He leaned back, turning towards her stiff form with raised eyebrows.

"It's right there." he commented, nodding his perfect head towards the middle shelf.

"..."

"Do you expect me to get it for you and bring it to you?" he sneered, looking slightly angry.

"No..." she instantly said in high-pitched voice, but she couldn't bring herself to move. As if she expected Lord Voldemort to be _courteous_. She would have laughed in his face if she was stupid.

"Have you forgotten how to walk?" he snapped sarcastically, irritation entering his dark gaze.

 _Oh Merlin, he's getting angry..._ she inhaled, taking a shaky step forward and forced herself to quickly walk towards the shelf. She quickly snatched the flabbergasted leeches. She couldn't believe who unbelievably rude Tom Riddle was – wait – no, what was she thinking? Yes, she could. No sooner than the thought left her mind, a cold, vice-like grip circled around her wrists from behind her, making her drop the leeches with a yelp, the glass shattering loudly throughout the room.

Her eyes widened and her panic mode set in as she instantly starting trying to pull her wrists out of his grip. She flailed her arms, but he was clearly much stronger than her. _Is he INSANE?!_ She thought to herself. Well, of course he was insane, but they were _literally_ in Slughorns classroom—did he _want_ to get caught? _What_ the _hell_ was he thinking? He hissed in irritation, and she felt him pull her backwards, her back slamming into his lean chest. Her eyes widened ever further and she gasped, feeling a coldness seep into her spine. Not only from fear, but from—from _him._ He was _freezing._

 _NOT human!_

"Shhh..." he hissed quietly and she felt the same, calming, pulsing waves entering her body, making her go somewhat lax against him. _No, no,_ _n_ _o..._ her mind chanted as he loosened his hold on her wrists.

He let go of one of her wrists and she gulped, her eyes widening dramatically in horror when she felt him tugging her white oxford shirt out of her skirt. She immediately tried to flee more aggressively, panic rearing its head again inside of her. She'd never even...thought of him— _that way_ _—_ she realized. She supposed that subconsciously, she just... _assumed_ he was asexual. But, he was... _wasn't_ he? After all, wasn't sexual desire another disgusting, _human_ thing to him? He didn't... _desire_ women like that, right? After all, if he did, why didn't he go with some of the beauties of Hogwarts? They clearly wanted him and they looked much better than her. If that was his goal, she didn't understand it. Her face paled out at the possibility he was a teenager in that aspect. That made everything SO much worse.

He simply sighed irritably and in the next moment, his hand was cupping her cheek. A powerful pulse throbbed through her body, pulling at her and making her knees weak. She moaned out as it pulled, actually pushing herself against his chest. He hissed in surprise behind her, but he didn't sound displeased by her action—far from it. She could almost _feel_ that he was pleased. It was like this action, whatever it was, connected her to him on some level—she could _feel_ what he felt to an extent.

"S-Stop..." she gasped out, her teeth chattering lightly. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to stop herself from letting out another embarrassing moan as another powerful pulling pulse racked her body. But she couldn't stop her form from trembling against him. She felt his hand pulling at her shirt again, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him. Her mind willed her body, stop him...stop him... _stop him._ But she felt practically drugged. She was trembling, her body pulsing from the previous pulls as it waited for him to do it _again._ She internally flinched when she felt air hit her abdomen. She shivered, feeling his coldness sinking into her body. No, he shouldn't be this cold—he was—it wasn't right... _What is he DOING?!_

She gasped loudly when she felt his large, cold hand wrap around her hip...where the dark lines were. His cold fingers dug into her skin for moments, then stretched out across her stomach—across where the lines were. She felt his hand twitch, and he inhaled sharply behind her. Was he—was he removing them? She hated herself, but she didn't feel _as_ frightened anymore. She knew she should, and her mind kept telling her stupid body to be afraid, to turn around and try to pop him in the face or something. After all, she seemed to like muggle combat.

" _Es portat, le meu estoras..."_ he chanted smoothly behind her, making her face go tense. " _\- reste' unad, porte...hareas."_ he finished off in a quiet breath, surprising her when his always calm voice shook slightly. He let go of her other wrist, wrapping the arm around her shoulders, moving from her stomach to clutch her hip with the other hand as though he was holding her steady. But, why?

She waited in a frightened confusion, but it didn't last long. Her mouth opened and she let out a cry—her head falling back against his chest as something she never expected in a _million years_ wracked her body. She instantly fell into what felt similar to an orgasm, but it was honestly more powerful than that—it was unlike she'd anything she'd _ever_ felt. Though she'd never known a man in that way, it couldn't _possibly_ get much stronger than this. She was gone. She didn't care they were in a storage room in a classroom. She didn't care her professor was nearby. She didn't even care if Harry charged in the room and saw.

 _She didn't care_.

She grabbed his forearm that was holding her shoulders, gripping him fiercely as rolls of pleasure invaded her every sense, pulling something deep inside her and making her feel as though she was on the brink of insanity—but she _still_ didn't care. This was a madness she'd willingly accept. She could feel his intense eyes looking at her face, drinking in her every expression as her breath came out in a wild gasp—she could once again, feel how pleased he was and she writhed in his hold, whimpering lightly and biting her lip.

Vaguely, she heard him take a sharp intake of breath and let out an unsteady groan, making something inside her set on fire. Her mind was blissfully blank, whether or not he had done that on purpose, she didn't know. But, her body was calling the shots now. And her body wanted him, _desperately_. She didn't care in what way. She wanted him in every way.

She tried to press into him more, but his hand on her hip kept her steady. She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck, shoving her fingers in his silky locks as she looked up at him, her pony tail falling against his upper arm. His handsome face was looking at her in surprise, but his eyes were completely black, whites and all. The veins were missing, and it should have disturbed her. But this time, it didn't. Hell, she'd be surprised if she had any iris left. Surely, her own pupils were blown. Her gaze took on a dazed, hooded look and she licked her lips as she gazed at his. They weren't too thin, but weren't thick either—a perfect shade of pink. Perfect. He was perfect. He was _so handsome_. His eyes narrowed on her action, taking a deep breath as his eyes briefly closed, clutching her hip with force, undoubtedly leaving bruises. Again, she didn't care.

"We're out of time," he said in a calm, yet strained, deep voice. "let go." for whatever reason, deep down, she felt as though he didn't really want her to. "No..." she whispered, her body feeling desperate. She pulled his hair almost aggressively as she shoved herself on her tip toes, closing the distance. His face darkened and his tense jaw ticked slightly as his dark eyes briefly flashed to her slightly parted mouth. She slowly blinked, swearing she saw...uncertainty flash through his eyes. He turned his lips away from hers in the last moment, making her frown in annoyance.

" _Granger_ ," he said sternly in a commanding tone, but she heard how his deep voice slightly shook. "this is not the place for this."

No, shit—like she cared.

She shocked him when she simply ran her tongue up his chiseled neck, planting a small, open-mouthed kiss on his sharp jaw-line. Her body shuddered in surprise pleasure. She didn't expect any kind of taste...but it was there. It wasn't even distinguishable. She couldn't compare it to his smell—he didn't _taste_ like coffee or spearmint. Perhaps...it was similar to the sandalwood musk that seemed to linger on his skin. He tasted... _dangerous_ _—_ but deliciously so, in a way that made her heart flutter and her toes curl in want. Regardless, in that moment, she didn't recognize herself. It wasn't an action she ever saw herself doing, so why did it feel... _right_? Why did everything about this feel... _right_?

He completely froze after her action, a statue couldn't have possibly been more rigid than he went in that moment. Just as she stared to feel slightly self-conscious about her action, she heard a low hiss escape his mouth. His hand squeezed her hip again and he let out a low grunt. A wild thrill shot through her body, making the same pleasure curl her toes, but she wasn't sure anymore if that's what she was feeling, or if that was his feelings projected onto her. She made a move to do it again, but was pushed violently away.

"No!" he hissed as she stumbled, catching herself against the shelves in the storeroom, turning to look at him and gripping the shelves behind her to steady herself. He was looking tense, breathing heavily and his black eyes narrowed on her also heavily breathing form. Away from his hypnotizing touch, her mind slowly started to turn back on as she blinked, looking at him with an alarmed expression. Anger, fear and total _embarrassment_ hit her all at once as her face flushed, her hand instantly ripping her wand out of the pocket of her robes. She pointed it at him angrily, not even caring at the moment that she probably wouldn't be able to best him. If she could get one shot in, it would please her. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and opening them again to reveal them looking normal.

"Put that down Granger," he hissed, making no move to draw his own. "don't be stupid—remember where you are. Now, hurry up and fix yourself—Slughorn will get suspicious soon." her face practically magenta as she realized her was referring to her white oxford that _he_ had pulled from her skirt.

"What—what the hell did you do to me, Riddle?!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage and humiliation. There were so many emotions swirling around inside of her, that she couldn't possibly contain them all, she was only human. Angry red sparks shot out of her wand, her magic crackling furiously around her.

"If you don't control yourself, I'll fix the problem," he said lethally, his eyes narrowing, not the least bit fazed at the powerful witches magic crackling at him aggressively, "you're not causing a scene in front of the professor. Now, are you going to pull yourself together and keep your mouth shut? Or are you going to make me _make_ you shut up?"

"FUCK YOU, RIDDLE! I HATE YOU!"

He rolled his eyes, sighing irritably as his eyes turned black again, the veins reaching into his neck, making her eyes widen in fear at the inhuman display. He didn't move—not a single word was uttered, but her world instantly went black.

((O))

Hermione came to with a groan, blinking rapidly as her eyes met the ceiling of the infirmary. She frowned, confused for moments before reality came crashing down on her as her thoughts became so frantic that they weren't even forming coherent sentences in her thoughts. _That_ _—_ _that mother_ _—_ _he_ _—_ _what the_ _hell_ _did_ _—_ _I'm going to kick his..._ "Feeling alright dear?" a young mediwitchs face suddenly popped in her field of vision.

"What happened?" Hermione grumbled, not sure she even wanted to know the answer.

"Oh dear," she tisked, helping Hermione sit up in the hospital bed. "a potion ingredient rack crashed down on you in potions class—you don't remember? You did hit your head pretty hard..." Hermione clenched her fists. Oh, she _remembered alright_. She remembered a little _too well_.

Her face turned bright red for multiple reasons.

"Your friends came by to check on you," she said happily as Hermione noticed a large bouquet of white, glowing roses on her bedside table. They were in a beautiful, crystal vase that seemed to glisten in the sunlight as it shone in the windows of the infirmary. Her jaw dropped slightly as she reached for them, fingering a magnificent white petal that seem to have small, tiny diamonds glittering the surface. They were, undoubtedly, the most fabulous flowers she'd ever seen conjured. She knew that not even she could conjure such a perfect creation.

"Oh, aren't they gorgeous?" the mediwitch asked with a dreamy sigh. "poor Mr. Riddle. He carried you all the way here, you know—said it was his fault, that he didn't react soon enough to stop the shelf..." Hermione's eyes darkened considerably, her fingers that almost touched the beauty falling dejectedly, "so, he conjured these for you," she smiled, sitting down on her bed. "remarkable, aren't they? He's such a talented wizard. Whomever he marries, will be a very lucky lady indeed."

"Indeed." Hermione said sourly, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to repress it, if she repressed it, she wouldn't have to think about it. It wasn't normally her mode of operation, but what in the name of Merlin was even normal anymore? She had another overwhelming urge to tell Harry everything, but she couldn't protect him if he was in Slytherin—she frowned, not that she could if he wasn't. For Merlins sake, she couldn't even protect herself at the moment. She was against an unknown assailant with an unknown arsenal, and more than a couple tricks up his sleeve. That and a part of her feared him knowing, she was _ashamed,_ as she should be...though Harry would be understanding—she would think, but Ron wouldn't. Ron would probably turn his 'eat slugs' curse on her before she could even get two words in. Besides, what was she supposed to say? 'Hi Harry, when Voldemort touches me, I have this weird soul-pull type thing—I mean, it _feels_ similar to an orgasm—sooooo...do you know what it is?' she flinched and turned red at her own thoughts. She could do that, _or_ she could go throw herself in the black lake and pray to God the giant squid was hungry.

Both had equal appeal.

Merlin help her, what was even going on? There were so many thoughts—so many questions in her mind that she felt as though she was on the brink of sheer madness. She needed answers, and soon. Though, she had a horrible trepidation that she wouldn't find a damn thing, and the only source of information she was going to get was directly from the source—not the he'd ever tell her anything. And even if he did, it sure _as hell_ wouldn't be a weakness.

"Are you feeling alright dearie?" the mediwitch asked, snapping Hermione out of her thoughts as her toffee eyes met the concerned healer. Hermione gave a watery smile, "No madam. Unfortunately, over-thinking isn't an illness."

The healer gave her a warm smile. "It can be," she said kindly, placing a wrinkled hand on hers. "if you'd ever like to talk, I'm here." Though it slightly had more appeal than telling Harry or Ron, it was still completely unappealing. But that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the offer.

"Thanks," she murmured, standing with a smile. "I feel just fine—can I go back to class?"

"Of course darling!" she said happily. "you're all healed – was just waiting for you to wake."

"Thanks." she repeated, staring to head out of the infirmary.

"Wait!"

She stopped in her tracks, her face paling several shades when she saw her holding Riddle's magnificent roses, "don't forget these beautiful flowers! I'm sure the poor boy had to work very hard to conjure them for you."

 _I highly doubt that…._ she thought bitterly. The young Dark Lord was beyond gifted. She had half a mind to reject it, to tell her to just throw them away. But, there wouldn't really be any justification for that behavior. Not to mention, the healer seemed to be quite fond of the devil and she had to be careful, lest she get on her bad side. Considering how her luck had been lately, she needed a healer on her side.

"Of course," she said, trying not to sound apprehensive and she reached forward, trying and failing miserably to stop her hand from trembling. The healer smiled at her fondly, making Hermione's heart warm as the small girl stood, holding the crystal vase near her chest.

"Come back if you feel ill." she ordered, making Hermione nod as she turned as headed out of the infirmary, fully intent on throwing the flowers, one by one, off the astronomy tower. It had two purposes: to get rid of them and to make herself release some frustration. Perhaps she'd even rip them apart before she chucked them? She was supposed to be in Divination at the moment, and if that wasn't unappealing enough, Riddle was also in that class. Nothing could have possibly been more unappealing, except maybe telling Harry and Ron about what was going on. That couldn't be beat.

She grimaced, turning the corner and almost dropping the vase in fright. Her toffee eyes met the dark gaze of Tom Riddle, who was leaning against the wall, staring at her casually and looking like some sort of dark, _annoying_ Adonis.

"Why aren't you in class?" she instantly snapped, gritting her teeth and a small dose of fear crept in her veins.

"I see you liked the roses." he commented, ignoring her question completely. She wasn't going to justify that with an answer—she never like anything he bloody did. _Well, except maybe..._ she instantly squashed the voice in her head like a bug.

"What do want from me?" she blurted loudly after his comment. She was already at her wits end. She was alone, confused and frightened. How was she supposed to have any peace when he was around every corner, touching her and sending her into some kind of... _mystical orgasm?_ Merlin, just saying it in her head made her skin crawl.

He raised his eyebrows, looking amused momentarily before he answered. "Do I have to silence the corridor like I did the classroom?" he shook his regal head, his black eyes glittering as he continued, "But you know, I haven't quite decided yet," he said softly, but she wasn't fooled by the gentle tone. "you've proven yourself to be far more... _interesting_ _—_ than I thought you would be."

She swallowed thickly, not entirely sure how to process what he was telling her.

"H-How am I interesting?" she asked quietly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "there's nothing special about me, I'm just-"

"But there is..." he interrupted quietly, his eyes flashing dangerously, "I've never seen a soul like yours." she immediately looked affronted, her shaking hands finally dropping the crystal vase as it crashed loudly, shattering into a million pieces. Unlike her, he didn't violently jump at the sound, but continued to look lazily at her.

"M-My soul?" she squeaked, shaking her head. What in Merlin was he talking about? Considering she had knowledge of his Horcruxes, the whole soul talk was going to make her extremely uneasy. He could never know she knew of the existence of his...

He grinned, almost evilly as her heart immediately started pounding her rib cage. He looked like he was about to do her some damage as his handsome features somewhat twisted. As she reached for her wand, she was thrown sideways, directly into an alcove with a shriek. Her cheek was against the wall as her body was pinned as she squeaked and desperately tried to move—especially when she felt his dark, cold presence against her back.

"Here's the thing..." he breathed quietly against the shell of her ear, making her body freeze as a chill ran down her spine at the sensuous baritone. "what happened with us could never have happened if you didn't _want it_ Granger."

Her stomach dropped. No, he wasn't going to try to pull that one over her eyes. It was his fault—he'd done something to her. He was a dirty rotten _lying_ snake. "I don't believe you." she hissed, refusing to believe that she ever want his filthy hands anywhere near her. He chuckled darkly, making her hair stand on edge and her stomach drop as she felt his tall, lithe body press into her back.

"But it feels so good..." he said slowly and sensually, reaching up and pulling the hair tie out of her hair and making her curls bounce and fall down her back. He grabbed them, squeezing lightly as he pushed them over her shoulder, pressing his cool face into the back of her neck. "...wouldn't you agree?" he asked lowly, goosebumps erupting all over her skin as she felt his soft, cool lips move against the back of her neck with his words.

Hermione was breathing heavily, half-distressed and half-excitement, her chest pushing against the stone wall with every inhale. Her skin was tingling, all of her senses super aware. Aware of her own pounding heart, aware of the fire that erupted in her veins at his closeness and touch...aware of the _shame_ , deep in her stomach. She could hear his breathing, his breath sounding slightly strained against the back of her neck—his chest lightly pressing into her back, seeming slightly unsteady himself. She jolted when she felt something sharp against the back of her neck, making her gasp in surprise when she realized it was his elongated canines she had seen. They weren't quite long enough to be considered fangs, but she still bristled—surely, he wouldn't...? In the next moment, she felt his hands circle around her wrists the were against the wall at her waist, and shove them above her head, pinning them tightly to the wall again. She inhaled sharply at the clear power move, biting her lip when he groaned lowly against the back of her neck. If...if she didn't know any better, she'd say she was having a _bigger_ effect on him than he was her. But she didn't understand how that was possible, seeing as she wasn't doing _anything._ He moved to the side of her neck, and she was cursing her own body as she instinctively moved her head to the other side, allowing him full access to the creamy expanse of her neck. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't convince herself to move it back when she felt his nose glide upwards—inhaling deeply.

She instantly let out a gasp of mild pain when she felt a canine scrape her neck, making a small cut near her ear. Her knees shook and she gasped loudly when she felt something cool and wet tentatively lick the spot. He inhaled sharply and her eyes widened. He'd never brought up blood-status...but could he... _tell_? No, that was _stupid_. There was _no_ way...a deep groan brought her out of her thoughts as his grip tightened almost painfully on her wrists. He had stopped, thankfully. It seemed he didn't want to _drink_ her blood, but _taste_ it—Not that that made it any less disturbing. Her mind kept willing her body to be more afraid, but she just couldn't and didn't know why. Logically, she was surprised she didn't dead faint on the spot.

"What—what are you doing?" she choked out, finally able to speak for the first time.

"Hmm..." he murmured quietly, lightly pushing his handsome face in her curls.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked quietly, making him still behind her, pulling his face out of her curls as her pulse spiked in anticipation, her breath catching in her throat.

"I have many names..." he said quietly, bringing his mouth to her ear. "many of which I've failed to remember."

She stilled in astonishment, shock clouding her every thought as his words caught her by surprise. What in the name of Merlin did _that_ mean? Was he admitting he wasn't human? She tried to think as her body hummed because of his nearness, confusing her and making her squirm slightly in discomfort. She...she couldn't think with him so close—with him pinning her wrists and lightly running his nose up her neck. How was she supposed to have a coherent observation?

"I think I want more..." he murmured quietly in a deep voice, removing his hands from her wrists, but Hermione found she was still unable to move them from the wall as he ripped her shirt out of her skirt once again, making her gasp in surprise as he wrapped a hand around her abdomen, curling it around her hip and pressing her into his chest. She started to object, but she realized what he was going to do and she ended up gaping like a fish, unable to force the objections to leave her mouth.

He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, chuckling darkly, making more goosebumps appear as his cool breath washed over her flushed skin.

"Do you think you can control yourself this time?"


End file.
